


John Seed One Shots

by Wealthywetsunny



Series: One Shots [3]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Forced, Knifeplay, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 92
Words: 149,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny
Summary: One shots from Far Cry 5 focusing solely on John Seed.Requests are welcome
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed, John Seed/Reader
Series: One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1178501
Comments: 186
Kudos: 368





	1. Knifeplay (NSFW)

“Do you trust me?” John tilted his head to the side, eyes not on her. Focused instead on the knife he held in a death grip. His knuckles were turning white, teeth clenched and body shaking ever so slightly as his resolve was beginning to loosen up. He loved the control, enjoyed that she was tied up and at his mercy. That she could do nothing but stare up at his bare chest, tattoos looking bright against his skin.

Rook squirmed, the room was cool, making her nipples perky. He was seated on her hips, pressing down on her uncovered cunt.

The knife shifted to her neck, right under her chin, threatening to slice her open and watch her bleed out like a stuck pig. He’s never done anything to hurt her, never would. Though this was the first time he brought in a knife after he teased her so relentlessly. The first time he even showed an interest in such rituals.

He was right to ask those kind of questions, maybe he saw the way she looked at him with traces of fear from all those months ago when her goal was to kill him. So right now, she wasn’t too sure the answer was one he wanted.

“I said,” blade drawing blood on her upper arm, a thin slice that wouldn’t scar. “Do you trust me?”

Another cut on the opposing arm. John leaned down to lick up the droplets before it could stain his sheets. The sleek blade, curved slightly, went dangerously close to her nipple. Like he was about to cut an apple and not a part of her body clean off. He used his thumb as a brace, teasing, rubbing the side of it and watching her reaction. Smiling as her eyes grew wide in horror for what he could do.

Ultimately he pulled away, placing a kiss over the tight bud. Nipping at it and putting teeth marks on her nipple in lieu of the cut a blade could make.

The knife point hovered over her eye, close to cutting it open and watching it pop like a grape. “Do you trust me now?”

“John..” her hips bucked up, brushing against the hardness in his jeans. A taste of what he was bringing to the table. What she could have if she just said….

“Yes.”

With that word he drew a line down her face, across her cheek bone. He didn’t hesitate to lick that up too. Pressing his tongue against it roughly to make her hiss in pain.

“That’s it darling, that’s all I wanted.”

Her eyes rolled to where he was placing the knife on the bedside table, hand moving to grab his belt buckle. “Show me you can trust me some more.”


	2. Atonement (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Wedding with John’s dramatic ass

“Which one?” A yellow pencil was stuck between his teeth, the eraser chewed down to almost nothing.

Jacob didn’t mind the company of his brother, but when he burst in unannounced with absolutely no warning looking so out of place in his compound full of dirty cages and wolves...he was annoyed to say the least. Jacob reclined back in his stiff wooden chair trying his hardest to focus on some new trial tests with the Judges as John paced the length of his floor.

He had taken up the space of one of Jacob’s cork boards. Covering the maps, pictures and red string Jacob had oh so carefully hung up with a the upcoming plans he had for the deputy’s atonement. 

Wedding plans to be exact. Or what looked like a wedding. The red carpet, the archway. Exactly what was he going for?

“Are you even listening?”

_No._

“Course I am. But what do I know ‘bout a damn theatrical event like the one you’re putting on? If you want something done just tell her to get her ass over to Falls End. You don’t need all—“ Jacob looked up and waved his hand around to motion towards the pictures showing the decorations and layout that John had chosen. “That.” There was a distinct sound of disgust to his words.

A grunt fell from John’s pouty lips as he stalked close to Jacob, leaning on his desk and spilling a collection of pens on the floor in the process. “I’m asking you.” John whispered the words, eyes closing as he gripped onto a picture of two different cathedrals. The one in Falls End and the one in Joseph’s compound. “So which one Jake?”

“Falls End.”

John’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. Frowning again, tossing the chewed up pencil on scattered papers around the desk. “Why?”

“For fucks sake. Nope. I’m not dealing with this John.” Jacob stood so fast his chair knocked to the floor behind him. He ignored the concern in his brother’s eyes as he walked forward to grab his upper arms and lead him out of his office. “I love ya to death, you know that. But I can’t right now. I'm sure you’ll figure it out.”

*****

John stood back, letting Faith work her magic. Commanding Angels left and right to carry large crates of bliss flowers in a truck. His little sister had been way more helpful than Jacob was that morning.

Going as far as to help redesign the floor plans. Suggesting some intricacies for the outside design too.

“It needs and feminine touch.” Faith had chided when he frowned as she kept intervening. He’d only asked for flowers but the woman was hell bent on doing more. She had pet his hair down and planted a kiss on his forehead saying the shipment would be there later tonight, that he should be concerning himself with other things.

“And what would that be Faith.” His hands were behind his back, sensing she was trying to hint at something.

She twirled, plucking at a pretty yellow flower on the ground and stuck it in her hair. “Like what you plan on wearing.” She giggled as she said it, taking any sting out of the words. It was a playful jest. Yet one that made John scoff. This wasn’t a game. This had nothing to do with him either. This was the deputy’s atonement. So what if he wanted the place to look a little nice. It wasn’t weird. Right?

He drove home a few hours later grinding his teeth together and cursing that damn sister of his for putting doubts in his head. For acting like this was something more than it was. It was just a religious ceremony. One that would benefit on how he decorated the walkway outside.

*****

“It’s a simple choice. Just pick one.”

Joseph shook his head, flicking his eyes between the twelve colors laid before him. “If it's so simple you wouldn’t be asking for my opinion.” Joseph mumbled as his bottom lip was clenched between his teeth.

He picked up one of the sample rugs, holding it up and frowning. Joseph had to refrain from asking why this was necessary.

At John’s restless feet, how he sighed constantly, Joseph cracked a smile. “This is important to you isn’t it?”

“I—yes. Yes Joseph. This is important for all of us though. Not just me.” It almost sounded too defensive. “She needs to atone. To join Eden’s Gate.”

“And when she does? What then?”

John paused. He didn’t expect to be an integral part of her transition after her handled her confession and atonement. Always figured Joseph would take over after that. Since when did he ever get to take care of something so important to the bigger picture? “When she does..” John’s lips twisted. He knew exactly what he would do to her once she was on his side. So many things that may be sinful, but definitely wouldn’t be treason if they were teammates. Those things were happened to be things he wouldn’t dare admit to Joseph.

“Dunno. We’ll see. Take it as it comes.”

John grabbed at one of the colored rugs that were to be laid on the ground leading up to the church. “C’mon, lets get this done.” There was a note of urgency in his voice. It was curt and short. His fingers twitchy.

This had to be perfect.

*****

His men secured Falls End in less than ten minutes. He strutted down the road like he owned the place, gun hanging loosely in his hand as he whistled and made his way to the church at the very end. A beautiful structure. But he could do it one better. He could do it the justice the deputy and him deserved for such a day. 

He stood at the steps of the steeple, ordering his men what to do, most importantly checking to see if everything was centered. Especially that archway. The red carpet went down without a problem. Rolled out perfectly. But that damn arch.

He barked out orders in a way that put Jacob to shame with how specific he was being.

“Too the left.”

“Not that much! The right now.”

“Do I need to do it myself?”

“My God...just...will someone…” anger was chopping off his words. Distorting his sentences and causing him to ball his fists up.

He’d do it himself.

John eventually did get it fixed. About five minutes later.

He walked to the front, imagining the deputy standing in the exact spot and how she’d be blown away. It needed more though. Sure he had...what did Faith say? A feminine touch? But he needed _his_ touch. Something that he was known for, that wouldn't make her think of any other member of the Seed family but him.

The answer to that was crows. Dead crows. He’s used them before. So why not now?

Another ten minutes and he had a pile of crows at his feet. One in his hand, a nail sticking out of his mouth and a hammer in the other hand.

Once they were pinned up pretty he flung the church doors open with the order for everyone to stand down. He wanted to be the first person she saw when awoke from consciousness.

With a man stationed at the door, holding up his gun to slam down in her skull, John picked up his radio and went to the deputy’s channel.

“Dep?”

*****

Getting a call from John Seed wasn’t unusual. In fact it was a part of her day that Rook looked forward to. It was a damn good day if John decided to reach out. Because that meant she had done a proper job pissing him off. She worked him up enough to make him show his wrath. A sin, he told her, that he knew intimately. And with the things he said to her she could believe that.

She was busy though, busy flying high on the search for old Vietnam lighters when he called her. Same old shit in that menacing voice that strangely made her knees go weak and her breathing stutter. 

Rook did a quick turn around, heading back the way she came.

Looking at the ground below was like seeing a ghost town. It was absolutely empty save for the Eden’s Gate vans parked in the front on the church. Of course he’d take over the church. The holy man he was, the Baptist that he adored being, he would bring her to God’s house. Right under His watchful eye.

She landed with a ruff squeak of the wheels when she went too fast and was distracted by the scene in front of her.

Christ, she almost fell on her face as she scrambled to reach the ground to get a better look at what he prepared.

The red carpet was a nice touch, made her feel special for once in this godforsaken county. The archway...was a bit much. Made her pause as she took it all in. There were flowers, white flowers, probably laced with bliss. She dared to call it pretty, but suddenly recalled who had done it and the circumstances that waited for her inside.

This whole absurdity almost made her miss the crows he strung up like fairy lights around the rim off the door.

_Almost_

“Charming.” Rook brushed her hand against the arch as she passed by, safe to assume this was her atonement. Not that she ever confessed to any sin. He simply accused her of wrath the before she ran out of his bunker. But it was only a matter of time before he got impatient and went to speed things along. He was probably getting pressure from his prophet of a brother to make this happen. Though this whole ensemble was definitely from the mind of John. No doubt about it.

Rook bounded up the steps. One hand hovered over her gun, the other reached out to grab the handle.

Maybe this could be a civil meeting. He could of fooled her with the presentation that was offered.

Before she was able get a proper look inside, a gun was smashed down on her temple and everything went black.

*****

She woke up with a pounding in her head and the distinct feeling of pain around her chest. The world was blurry as she blinked open her eyes. But she could still make out the shape of someone on top of her. Wielding a tattoo gun, pressing it into the flesh below her collarbone and pulling back every few seconds to check on his work.

Her hand shot up when he went to put the tattoo gun down, finished apparently. 

“Ah, shush Deputy. We’re done anyway. No reason to get angry now.”

John’s voice ringing in her ears. Bouncing around her head and making her whine.

If she focused she could feel a light breeze, like a draft, below her hips. And John’s tight grasp shifting to grab at her pelvic bone and…

_Oh_

He thrusted up, a gentle roll of his hips. With the way his breaths were shallow she’d assume he’d been inside her for a while. Long enough for her body to be dangerously close. Her walls fluttered around him, making him groan and tip his head forward to mouth at the marking of her sin he gifted her with.

“John?” She was coming back to herself. Seeing everything more clearly and remembering what led up to all this.

John nipped at her skin in response. Another sound of pleasure ripping from his lips. “Hope this lives up to your expectations Deputy. God I spent so long planning this. Thinking about this moment when we could finally be one and it’d no longer be sinful.” He went for her mouth, pressing a rough kiss that was more teeth than she had anticipated. 

“Get off.” Her hands moved to grab at his shoulders as she pushed. But he had the upper hand this time. He was a thin looking guy, she never assumed for him to be so damn strong.

“No.” There was a smile in his voice when he said it.

“For a man who likes the word ‘yes’...” the sentence didn’t need to be finished. They both understood.

“Don’t use my own words against me.” Though he chuckled as he said it. John tore her shirt, slicing through the straps of her bra with the flip of a switchblade. “Stop squirming.” When she didn’t listen, for obvious reasons, he bent his head down to bite at her nipple. A tad too rough to be loving and pleasurable. He accompanied the reprimand with a harder thrust into her cunt.

“Look how well you take me.” John drew back to do exactly that. To see his cock slip in and out of her with ease. “You were meant for this.” He picked up speed, felt her fight against him as her strength returned. “Don’t deny your purpose.” Each word followed up by him pushing further in her. Brushing on her sensitive nerves.

“Tell me,” another kiss to her lips, this time softer, “you want this. You want _me_.” One hand grabbed her breast. Kneading it between his palm. “Tell me you need me to help you find your release.”

No fucking way. She kept her mouth firmly shut. Opening up for him only when he went to kiss her. That at least kept him sated.

“Ah. Pride. Dangerous thing.”

“So’s lust.” Slurred words as she felt a jolt of warmth run through her stomach. She was close.

He chuckled, grabbing her hips and making fingerprint bruises. “That’s debatable. Don’t worry though. I’m a Baptist after all. And we are in a church. We can do as much sinning as we want tonight. At the end, before I take you home with me, we will confess and atone.”

John went faster, head bent and pieces of unkempt hair hanging over his eyes. He shot her a soothing smile, one that would make any other woman melt. Maybe her if he hadn’t bashed her skull in with the butt of a gun and forced a tattoo on her.

With one hand cupping her cheek, the other went down between her folds. He didn’t go easy on her. Used the heel of his palm to rub on her most sensitive bundle to make her cum fast. Her back arched off the ground, up into him. John held to her fast, wrapping his arms around her and thrusting rapidly to find his own release.

She didn’t have time to worry about his seed rushing down her thighs when he pulled out. He didn’t give her time. With an injection of bliss into the side of her neck and kisses across her cheek bone he mumbled promises of the life he’s always wanted. The life he’s dreamt of that could now begin.


	3. Impregnation Kink (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Impregnation kink with John

Sometimes she swore John adored the hunt just as much as Jacob claimed to. Hell, with how often he proposed their little game of cat and mouse it had to be true. It had become a staple to their routine, he’d call her before he came home, a simple word that would signal they would play again that day.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

Now that she was apart of John’s life he hated her going out on her own to fight. Wouldn’t risk losing her. She missed the adrenaline rush. The blood lust that would overwhelm her when she fought and indulged her wrath. He knew how to fix that, how to make sure his girl didn’t get restless or bored. A chase always fixed the problem. Gave him a run for his money.

A timer was set as soon as he pulled into the drive and she was gone into the forest surrounding them. Rook ran circles around the man. Laughed behind her palm at the way he taunted her like a child. She even tossed a few rocks his way just to watch him lose his damn mind. It was a fun game for her. For John...not so much. He’d be much happier if he could at least track where she was moving. But he’s never been the strategic type. Not his style.

She had the upper hand for a while. Jiving and juking like an old seasoned pro. Until she made too much noise. Had gotten cocky with the methods she was using. Methods she thought would make any hunter proud. She thought she could get away with something risky and gloat about it later. It instead resulted in him knowing her location and a mile long sprint through the woods.

He was on her in an instant, tackling her from behind, body pushing her down, down, down until she made impact with a light _oof_ falling from her lips, which was quickly claimed by John’s mouth when he twisted her head around to reach her.

“Got you.” A taunt that had her groan out of annoyance.

It wasn’t often he captured her before the time was up. It happened, what? Maybe once before. Her pride had taken a big hit that time. And just as before she would go back to her room and lick her wounds in private. Sulk until John was finished doing his victory lap and called her down for dinner, gracing her with kisses when he saw her pout.

But that was last time.

Now that he had her on the floor he didn’t let her get up, kept his tattooed hands on her shoulder blades as he went to nuzzle the back of her neck.

“I think I deserve some sort of reward, don’t you?”

Rook scoffed. It’d be something insane, because it was John Seed and though he loved her he also didn’t mind seeing her struggle. She kept him on his toes with moments like that. “What? Want me to clean Affirmation for a week? Help you with confessions? Cook dinner tonight?”

“Oh darling. The way you think…” he smiled and chuckled as he leaned close to her ear. Delighted to see how she shivered at his presence. “You gave me a run for my money. I’m sweaty and tired. I deserve something more than that. You’re smart, think about it.”

Not like he gave her much time to wonder what his chaotic mind was conjuring. John’s hands lifted her hips to work off her belt and wrangle her pants down.

“Ahh, John.” She hissed through clenched teeth, smile vanishing in an instant as her head snapped around the forest they were in. Searching ten shadows in the trees. “Someone could see us.”

“Shush baby girl. I won’t let that happen. You’re for my eyes only, everyone knows that.”

He situated her on her hands and knees. Grabbing her ass and palming at her cheeks. Making him give off a pleased sigh at the sight. “God, look at you. I’m a lucky man.”

“Yeah, you’re fucking amazing. Stop with the damn ego boost before someone catches us.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but complied with what she asked. Pulling her panties down, the lacy white ones he had insisted on before he left for his bunker that morning.

John licked through her slick coming from her cunt. Humming his approval and murmuring how good she tasted.

Two fingers teased her, circling around her entrance, retracting his hand whenever she leaned back to try and get more.

“My reward, we do things on my terms.” He gave her as a soft pat on her ass when she huffed, fists curling in the dirt.

He removed his belt with one hand, the other still teasing her. Reveling in the whines she was giving him. Undressing wasn’t necessary, especially if someone did actually happen across them. He just took out his cock and balls, trying his hardest to ignore the way his jeans cut into him.

“Ready?”

“ _Been_ ready ya jerk, get on with it before I change my mind about you fucking me in the dirt like an animal.”

“Last night you didn’t mind being tied up like one.”

He felt her tense from where he was gripping her hip. Her head whirled around to lock eyes with him. “I was on silk sheets last night, in a warm room, there’s a difference. Also—“

With a roll of his eyes he pushed into her, sinking all the way down to the hilt in one go. Shutting her up completely. “Quiet. Let me make you feel good.”

She couldn’t argue with his logic. Just let him grip onto her and start up a fast pace.

Not even a minute in, with her orgasm slowly approaching, his finger working over her clit she brought one hand to tap at his hip. “You aren’t...John you shouldn’t…” a whimper made her words cut off. “Johnny, you shouldn’t finish inside me, you gotta...pull out.” A whine escaped her when he jammed himself in with a particularly hard thrust.

“Not a chance in hell. No way.” John draped his body over her back. Holding her up with an arm across her midsection when he felt her almost drop into the dirt. “Gonna fill you up. Make you round and full babygirl.”

Her head dipped forward when he nibbled on her ear with a soft curse coming from her lips. “Make sure you’re dripping with my seed.”

She’d be lying if she said the thought didn’t make her slicker. It had her rocking back into him until grunts were filling the space between them.

He made her cum first, slowed himself down to put all his attention on her clit. The way she tightened around him all the way up to her release had him reach the edge. And true to his word he filled her up. Let her feel the wetness that dripped around her cunt when he finished.

“We’re going to stay like this. With me shoved inside you so nothing comes out. I don’t want to see a drop wasted.” To show his point he reached between them to take some of his cum that had managed to slip down her thighs and held it up to her mouth. “Put it to good use darling.”


	4. Domestic Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Domestic fluff for John

John had stumbled through the door to his ranch, sour glances cast in the direction of whoever got close enough. Shoving at a man’s chest when he wandered near with a clipboard in his hand and a head full of questions that needed the attention of Hope County’s one and only Baptist.

She was lounging, feet propped up on the wooden carved coffee table, spoon sticking out of her mouth, drink making evaporation rings from where she placed it without a coaster.

Her mind had wandered, not paying any mind to John walking in. The hilariously bad horror movie deserved more attention considering how often he preferred to be alone as soon as he got home. She’d see him in an hour or two when he mentally recovered from the confessions he had to do that day.

“You’re home early.”

Silence.

Slowly she teared her gaze away from the TV, seeing John properly for the first time.

His hands rested on his hips, shoulders slumped and a frown on his face. “And you, you’re getting crumbs everywhere.”

Well...he wasn’t wrong. Tiny chunks of popcorn littered the ground, but his tone held more bite than usual. Made her freeze up completely as he stalked closer. An accusatory gleam in his eyes. 

Rook held onto her tongue when she took in his appearance. He was wearing his normal attire, but this time around his sunglasses and key were held in a loose grip. The top few buttons on his shirt were more done than usual. He was unnaturally pale.

John didn’t have _that_ much pride. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she…

“Come here Johnny.” Rook held out a hand, pulling him along to rest against her side. The man gave off heat like a furnace. Making her skin go immediately hot from where he was pressing into it. She kissed the crown of his head, taking note in how he sniffled, drawing his knees up and leaning into her more. “Think you’re sick.”

“No fucking shit.”

So that’s how it’s gonna be. John was a little brat when he didn’t feel well. Fair enough. He was too busy to rest, probably too concerned with falling back into his old ways and indulging in his sin of sloth that he worked himself to the bone. Didn’t stop when he thought he was coming down with something. He kept going until his body just gave up on him. Now he was paying for it.

Before he could fall asleep against her, because she’d rather not die of heatstroke from what he was giving off, she rose, planting a small kiss on parted lips when he whined. “Shouldn’t do that, you’ll get sick.” He cracked open an eye, touching his lips as if she’s never done that before.

She scoffed, leaning back down to do it again and hearing him huff in response.

“Your fault if you die. Your funeral.”

With a grunt she pulled him to his feet. Taking his full weight. “What? Do you have Ebola? I’m sure that if I get whatever you have I won’t just drop dead.”

He simply coughed in response, sending her a pointed glance in lieu of voicing his complaints from her moving him.

From there he was nothing but dead weight. He was dragging his feet, letting her yank him along yet snapping at her whenever he jammed his foot or almost tripped.

When they did manage to get to his room and she shoved him onto his bed he went to reach out for her. Pulling her down into the sheets with him. Uncaring that they weren’t lying on the bed properly or that he wasn’t wearing pajamas.

Her previous problem of not wanting to be wrapped up in heat was suddenly back with a fiery vengeance as he wrapped his arms around her.

Fuck.


	5. Drunkenness (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Don’t touch me

The smell of it was lingering on his skin. It made her wince. What would Joseph think? That his darling baby brother reeked of a mixture of pot and alcohol.

John was lounging on the couch in his ranch. Not that it still belonged to him. Just last week she had taken this place in the name of the resistance. There had been few people brave enough to stay, to call this home in fear that the Baptist wouldn’t give up such extravagant living arrangement so easily. And it seems they were right in their worries. To some extent at least.

He was passed out. The evidence of a bad night’s decisions scattered around him. Though it looked like he was fighting consciousness. Trying to battle the natural pulls of sleep that threatened to drag him down and keep him off guard.

Rook cleaned up first, stalling the inevitable disaster of John Seed. On a good day, when the man was sober, he was dangerous. Now she was proceeding with caution. Hands going slow, one hovering over her pistol, the other reaching out to shake his shoulder. Before she could get ahold of that tacky jacket he shot out to grab her, pulling her down in his lap and laughing when she  
screamed.

“Don’t touch me!”

Her yells went unheard. There was no one around for miles. “Deputy. A pleasure.” Slurred words that she could barely make out. Now that she was even closer she could smell him worse, could practically taste those substances on her tongue as they hung around him.

She wiggled, prying his arms off from where the had swirled around her waist. He was surprisingly forceful considering the state he was in.

“Dep, come on.” John whined it like a child. Like she was the one who was getting on his nerves. He pressed his face into her hip, rubbing his cheek up and down like an affectionate animal.

With a deep breath, trying so damn hard not to punch the man and enjoy the silence that would follow, she took her hands and pressed them on both his shoulders. Sighing from relief when he didn’t put up a fight. John’s eyes were half lidded, gazing at her like she was a damn angel.

It didn’t seem as if he was completely aware of what he was doing. Not like she was shocked with how hammered he was.

His hands moved on their own accord. Cupping her cheeks and moving down, pausing at her neck as if he was thinking about choking her. He decided against it, moved lower, grabbing her shoulders in a tight hold. Eyes always on hers. Zoning in on her, keeping her locked in place.

In one swift movement she was pulled tightly to his chest. She didn’t miss the way he leaned forward to look at the dip of her cleavage.

So John was a breast kind of man. Duly noted.

He pressed open mouth kisses to the exposed skin on her chest. Sucking and making lewd noises. His nose nuzzled into her neck, hands moving to tear open her shirt before she had time to protest.

The buttons popped. Too quick for her to pull his hands away. That didn’t stop her from grabbing his wrists. Impeding any further progress. For the moment they rested on her skin. Rubbing back and forth reverently.

“John?”

“Yes Deputy.” John mumbled it as his mouth returned back to the swell of her breasts. Kisses much softer now. Then as if she hadn’t spoken at all, “You know what we should do?”

“Swear to God if you say confessions…”

“I’m flattered that’s on your mind.” The grin he sported was lopsided. Made her stomach clench uncomfortably. “Makes me wonder…” He trailed off, rolling back his shoulders and meeting her gaze with eyes that looked a lot clearer than she last saw them.

He wasn’t faking was he?

Her question was answered as soon as the thought flitted through her mind. Like he saw the puzzle pieces click into place from the way her expression changed subtly.

With a surprising amount of strength for someone who was supposedly buzzed and stoned, he moved her to be lying across his lap.

His devilish smile was something that she knew well. One that screamed triumph.

“You know dep, I’ve been told I’m a wonderful actor.”

“You son of a b—“

His tattooed hand clamped down over her mouth. Cutting her off and muffling her screams. She kicked her legs, tried to change her position, but to no avail.

No wonder he was so strong beforehand. It was all an act. And even for his standards, trapping her like this was low. Then again, he’s gotten desperate. Didn’t want the Gates of Eden to be shut out to him or whatever nonsense his brother was feeding him.

“Now, now. That’s no way to talk to someone who simply wants to help you.” He leaned close to her, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “Don’t worry deputy. In a few hours it’ll be just you and me with your sins lying bare before us. It’ll be a struggle, because so far everything involving you has been such a pain. But you have me to guide you.”


	6. Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Bunker/confession scene where John rips open the deputy’s shirt only to find she already has some crappy tattoo

John was supposed to be the most sadistic of the Seed family. Worse than Faith’s bliss and lush hallucinations, worse than Jacob forcing people into an army along with starvation and a healthy mix of brainwashing, worse than The Father. The crazed prophet and judging from the video she saw in the helicopter ride over, he gouged some man’s eyes out with his fucking thumbs.

But John...

He was a whole new level of crazy. Tack on some sob story of all his woes and she’s not too surprised of the man who was currently whistling and snapping open a tackle box on a cracked wooden workbench, anyone who acted like this was normal had a few loose screws.

“My parents were the first ones to teach me about the Power of Yes.”

He swung around to look at her. A casual stance with the way he was leaning on the table, arm swaying slightly and a soft smile on his face. It radiated trust. Vibes that definitely didn’t tell the whole story about him forcing people into Eden’s Gate. Don’t judge a book by its cover really starts to apply.

Rook tuned him out, eyes zoning in on Hudson. Trying her best to silently convey that it’d be alright. That she was here and would fix things. Before the days end she’d put a bullet in the head of Hope County’s Baptist.

John strolled over to her, a tattoo gun held in his hand while he flicked on a lamp to her left. A bright old crappy thing that looked ten years old but made her squint all the same.

The tattoo gun instilled absolutely no fear in her. She’s had encounters with the thing before. When she was young and stupid and thought that there didn’t need to be any reason behind leaving permutant ink on her body. Just why not? That was good enough for her when anyone asked. Six years later and she was immensely regretting that the tattoo stained across her chest wasn’t a drunken decision. Completely sober Rook did that. At this point it was more a mark of shame.

She was frowning slightly, it wouldn’t be the first tattoo she’s gotten and felt a slight well of pride that he wouldn’t make her whine like a child when the needle would inevitably embed itself in her skin.

Her head rose to look up at him as he stood in front of her. This time around she let herself listen. She didn’t need him to get angry at her for ignoring him. No reason to test his limits, to see what he would be capable of.

“Something broke free inside me. I wasn’t scared. I was…” He held up a single finger, a look of concentration falling over his face.“Clear.”

Clear. Sure. She nodded along anyway. “I looked up at them and I started to laugh. All I could say was...yes.” He drew out the word putting emphasis on the ‘s’. The look on his face, the way he said it, Christ it was like he was having a fucking orgasm.

John clicked the tattoo gun on. Head tilted like a puppy. There was probably so many people fooled by those baby blue eyes and the sweet act he put on to lure people in. Of course she understood, that was if you weren’t strapped down in a chair.

Rook tried to zone in on him. To pay attention to what he was about to do. A little difficult when all she could hear was the screams of her friend behind him.

He looked down at the gun thoughtfully. Fully smiling as he placed it down on the table. “I spent my entire life looking for more things to say yes to.” He pounced on her like she was meat. Head leaning down towards her chest as he gripped the shirt and tore it open. The thing had buttons and he ripped it. From the way he frowned and how his brow furrowed it didn’t seem like an easy task.

Rook tensed when his gaze wandered over her chest. Eyes flickering around like he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. He looked utterly distraught. Like someone just killed his kitten.

His palms smoothed out over her skin, rubbing the dark ink that was already there. John finally gazed up at her. Once again he tipped his head to the side.

“Deputy.” He sounded too angry considering the circumstances. “What is this?”

“You sound offended.”

John sighed, scratching his beard before shaking his head. He tore her shirt some more, to see the bigger picture. Ripping it off her shoulders and leaving her bare from the waist up as he tossed her tattered shirt behind him with a ferocity that made her flinch.

“I wanted everyone to see your wrath. To know. Exactly where am I supposed to put your sin now Deputy?” John nudged her legs apart to fit himself in between as he leaned closer to her. Resting his head on the top of her breast. Hearing the thudding of her heartbeat.

“I’ve got more skin John.”

He grunted. Unmoving, eyes closed tightly.

From over his shoulder she saw Hudson, struggling and kicking to get free. She was moving her chair, sliding it along the floor. What was she…

_Oh_

Her eyes flicked to a an open door, perhaps a stairwell. This could work. She’d just have to keep John busy. Distracted. And seeing how he was acting like a petulant, moody child then it wouldn’t be so hard.

“Did you at least get a good look at it? It’s a cool tattoo.” Untrue. She despised the thing.

John pressed a kiss to the skin he was lying on, breathing her in, nosing at the swell of her breasts before lifting his head and doing as she asked.

There was an inked hand curling over her shoulder. Across from it was a paper airplane. It was stupid and childish. A simple drawing that had no depth. Probably no meaning either from what he guessed.

It was beautifully done. But he could do better.

“Should’ve came to me if you wanted a tattoo so badly.” He traced it, the point of his finger making her shiver. “And these lines are crooked. I can fix that.” She could see the cogs spinning in his head as he looked at her chest intently.

Behind them sounded a large bang, making him jump. Slowly he turned his head and cocked his ear in the air. A half smile on his lips when he heard Hudson cry out as she crashed down the stairs and slammed onto the hard floor. There was the quick sound of her footsteps getting further away. Yet John showed no hurry.

“You...you stay here Deputy. I think I’ve found a different task before your confession.” He shrugged nonchalantly, running his fingers through his hair. “After all, it’d be a sin for an artist as myself to just let this go unattended.” His hand squeezed her bare shoulder. “Stay here. You need my help.”


	7. Planning Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request:  
> When the deputy and John finally hook up  
> Deputy: You can’t tell anyone! This is just between us. Okay?  
> John: Ok...but I already told my brothers and sister. Posted it on all the billboards. Kidnapped all your friends for our wedding. And named our children.  
> Deputy: John, nooo

They both collapsed back into the sheets. John pulling himself out and guiding her under the blankets with him. Pressing their naked bodies close together.

“You can’t tell anyone. This is just between us. Okay?” John wrapped an arm around her. Heard the note of insecurity in her voice. To the rest of Hope County they were still enemies. He understood where she was coming from.

“Okay!” John grabbed her jaw gently, tipping her head up from where it rested on his chest to give her a soft kiss. Nodding enthusiastically as she snuggled deeper into him. Giving into the alluring pull of sleep.

He hid his emotions well. Tried to pretend there wasn’t a photo reel running though his head of what he had done.

_“Yeah, so it’s pretty much official.” John had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall with a smug look over his face. There was shock on his brothers and sister face. Staring him down intently._

_With the way he described the night in bed with the deputy he couldn’t really blame the horror Faith’s and Joseph’s expression held. Jacob looked plain amused. This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you tell your family. Especially not with the level of detail he used._

_“This is a joke right Johnny?”_

_“Oh Jacob.” John strolled over to where he was standing, reaching up to toss his hair around and hum delightedly. “You wish.”_

“ _For fucks sake.”_

_“Now, now brother, jealousy doesn’t look well on you.” John smiled brightly, still off the moon with his recent development with the deputy._

_“I don’t think it’s envy that plagues him.” Joseph piped up, placing one hand on John’s shoulder and the other on Jacob’s. Forcing himself between the two before they began to fight. “He’s merely...surprised.”_

_“Yeah that’s one word for it.” Jacob muttered, shaking his head._

_John deflated, hands balling up. “I thought you’d all be happy for me.”_

“ _We are!” Faith jumped in, panic flitting across her features for a split second. “He found love and that’s the best part of being alive. It makes the world seem perfect. Which begs the question…” she leaned in close, stepping on her tiptoes to reach his ear. “When’s the wedding?” She fell away, laughing as John sputtered._

_“Really Faith? They only fucked. That’s not love. And it definitely doesn’t mean marriage is coming along any time soon.”_

_“Jacob. Language. We should be proud that John has…” He paused, scrunching up his face in thought. Searching for a better word than their older brother just used. “Consummated his relationship.”_

_Jacob only snorted, rolling his eyes and tossing a scornful look their way._

“But...and don’t get too mad here. I already told my brothers and sister.”

Rook gaped back at him, drawing away from his chest. Suddenly wide awake. “Well. It could be worse right?” She scratched the back of her head nervously. She rarely saw the other Seeds. It’d be fine, she’d be able to avoid any awkward confrontations. Besides, they didn’t seem the teasing type. They wouldn’t bring it up. And she wasn’t about to meet the family that wanted her dead any time soon.

“Right…”

He stared off into the distance. Gazing out the window and cursing himself.

_All over Holland Valley were billboards of his face. Pictures of him and promotions of the Power of Yes. It’s a wonder what a couple of hours and a little money (Okay a lot of money) could do to change that._

_He hired the best of the best to drive along with him, carting around new artwork and large metal lettering around in the bed of the truck. They drove spot to spot tearing down what he used to have and replacing it with the not so subtle message of how he fucked the deputy. It should get the point across._

_Showing the rest of the valley that not only that she was his, but he had done what no one else had in Hope County. It was like him claiming his territory. John felt a feeling of pride that his Casanova days were in no way behind him. It was a wonderful title he wore. And now people would understand that._

_Perfect_

“I may or may not have posted it on all the billboards.”

“John!”

“Hey! I said may or may not. How do you know what’s true if you hadn’t even seen it.”

She buried her face in her hands taking a deep breath and trying not to punch the man who sat beside her. “So if I go to that billboard that is placed in front of the road leading up to this ranch it’d be the same picture? Nothing changed?” She made a move to get off the bed. Already standing. John flung himself over. Arms wrapping around her torso.

“Wait!”

“John you’re gonna have to say something real fucking interesting to get me to stay.”

“I kidnapped all of your friends for our wedding.”

Rook pivoted slowly. Hands cupping his jaw as he looked up at her. “You did what now?”

He winced, maybe not the smartest thing to tell her so soon. He pressed his nose into her stomach. Sighing when she pet over his head.

_The church of Falls End was beautiful this time of year. The way the trees were turning color. The red carpet laid out, the flowers blooming all around. Exactly as he had pictured it._

_He burst through the double doors. A bounce in his step as he swung his arms back and forth and hummed wedding music, the kind that the large organ he hauled in would play for them._

_Standing at front, he turned around. Eyes scanning the crowd of familiar faces. His hands clasped together in joy. The deputy wouldn’t say no when he asked her to come here. How could she? Not when all her friends had decided to attend. They may be bound and gagged. But that shouldn’t ruin their fun._

“Anything else?”

He tensed, quickly scrambling to the other side of the bed and rummaging around in a drawer. Hearing the deputy mutter something under her breath. Some prayer by the sound of it.

John crawled back over on the bed, shoving a piece of paper into her hands. It was worn and changed a lighter color from how many times he sat down at night and had held onto it tightly. Going over it again and again until he had passed out from exhaustion.

“I’ve named our children.”

Rook fisted her hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “John, no.” She collapsed on the bed next to him, turning her head to kiss him. “Just...no.”


	8. Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: The Deputy has amnesia and John takes advantage of that (Fluff)

It had happened too fast for either of them to stop it. Not to say that John would have slowed the deputy’s descent when she tossed her full body weight at him, sending both of them over the edge of a cliff, but still, he knew she wasn’t supposed to die. And, admittedly, he felt pangs of guilt run through his gut when he heard the dull thunk her head made as she came in contact with the ground.

He was unscathed. Picking himself up quick before she had a chance to finish the job she had gone kamikaze style on. He twisted his body around, head craning over his shoulder and tutting when he saw rips in his jacket. Below the garment he was clean more or less. Save for the strands of grass in his hair and the pebbles stuck in his vest.

John approached the deputy’s body with caution. Saw how her arm was twisted at a dangerous angle. “Guess you got the raw end of the deal huh?” He bent down on one knee next to her, hands scrambling to locate a pulse. Eyes slamming shut when he felt the thrumming beat against the pads of his fingers. “That’s what wrath will do to you. Hopefully you’ll learn your lesson.”

It was wishful thinking. Especially when he was voicing his pleas to an unconscious girl. At this point maybe he was talking to God, praying that when she woke and saw him granting her mercy instead of putting bliss in her veins to pull a confession from her, she’d be grateful. Understand that he wouldn’t stoop to her level. Wouldn’t follow his wrath and strangle her, cut off her air to make her float in and out of death. Just tease the idea.

Even thinking that way made his hands twitch where they rested on the soft curve of her neck. No one would no he had been the one to do it. His story wouldn’t be a complete lie. After all, what were the survival rates of jumping off a cliff?

He squeezed her throat one more time before falling back on his ass, head hanging between his bent knees. He couldn’t live with the guilt of such a decision. His brothers would grill him endlessly until he finally cracked and spilled the secret of when he choked her until her eyes bulged and her skin turned cold and blue. Saying she deserved it wouldn’t be a good enough reason. The Gates of Eden would be shut out to him. That wasn’t something he was about to risk.

With a disheartening sigh he watched over her. Folding up his jacket to place beneath her head for some form of comfort. Wondering if she had anything wrong with her head. She hit it pretty hard, it was a long drop too. Though he didn’t feel any lumps or cuts when he ran his fingers through her hair. That was a good sign.

John twisted her arm the correct way. Wincing when he heard it crack. Thank God she was unconscious.

Twenty minutes went by with her finally stirring. By that time it had gotten dark out. Her fault; he had seethed internally as he gathered twigs for a fire. It was her fault that she decided to try to kill him so close to nighttime. Whenever she woke up he was ready to give her a piece of his mind.

The fire was blazing, sitting in between them. He watched her cautiously through the flickering of the orange flames, turning her an ethereal color as she groaned, picking herself up into a sitting position.

He didn’t make himself known. Just sat back to gauge her reaction. To see if she would flip out, take the gun out of her holster, he visibly winced. He should’ve searched her instead of acting like a child. Sulking back and forth and cursing his luck.

Rook mumbled something under her breath he couldn’t pick up. Rubbing at her temple like she had a headache. He must’ve been wrong about that whole having no head injury thing.

She wobbled as she stood. Eyes going wide, half crouched over as she turned away from him. She scanned the forest, head turning ever so slowly like she was waiting for a monster to run out and tear her apart. She made a small noise in her throat, one that sounded like a whimper as she wrapped her arms around her torso.

John frowned. Why did she look so scared? Did she think he got away? Ran off to tell someone to go capture her.

He snorted softly, rising from his spot on the ground, moving like a hunter as he went around silently to grab at her shoulders.

“Boo.” Whispered softly in her ear. Causing John to smirk. She already thought he was an awful person, a childish man, so why not solidify that idea?

Her reaction wasn’t what he expected. Sure, the scream was par for the course, he’s done it enough to his brothers to understand how they act. But the immediate steps she took away from him, eyes wide with fear, that gave him pause.

Where did all that bravery go? The one that had kept her coming back, stronger each time, ready to finish him off, taking down loads of his men just to reach him. Perhaps she was afraid of heights, thought she had died for a second? Was still recalling how they tumbled a long way down.

He rested his hands on his hips, eyes falling down to the dirtied jacket she had stepped on in her scuffle to get away. A large boot print resided on the navy blue cotton.

“You’re paying for my dry cleaning dep.”

A mixture of emotions ran over her face. Settling on confusion. “What?”

“Look,” John dropped down to scoop up his coat. Holding it close to her as he took a few steps forward so she could see it in the darkness.  
Humming his approval when she didn’t move away. That bump on the head had done her some good, if she ran he had no problem giving chase. Looked like common sense was brought to the forefront of her mind. “See what you’ve done? You’ve ruined it.”

“I-I’m sorry sir. I d-didn’t mean…” her words tapered off, staring at him like it was the first time she was seeing him.

“Sir...huh, I like the sound of that. It shows respect. About time. That that won’t save you; it will not erase those months of sin.”

When she didn’t answer, hands curled up at her chest like a scared animal, he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Woo-hoo. Earth to the deputy.”

He saw the harsh swallow she gave. The tears that started to gather. Christ, he hadn’t yelled at her that much. “Fucks gotten into you?”

Rook sobbed, head tipping forward. “Do I know you? Are we—uh—are we friends?” Her hand reached up to grab the wrist that he still held up to her face.

Friends….He didn’t mind that title either.

“Oh this is perfect isn’t it.” He shook his head with utter amusement. Slinging an arm around her. “You wanna be friends? Sure,” John drawled. Pressing his nose into her shoulder and laughing.

“It’s late dep,” John’s mind scrambled for something to say. He might as well take advantage of what God was giving him. He’s been spared for now. Given a rare chance to not be at war with the woman who had consumed his thoughts to the point where it was borderline infatuation. This was the love Joseph was talking about wasn’t it? The Lord had heard and had sent him a little taste of what he could have if he simply opened up and let someone care.

He couldn’t ask for a better gift. The gift that would save his life according to Joseph. He didn’t want his sins to be his downfall.

With a great sigh he guided them down in front of the fire. “We should rest at least. Wait until morning before he head out.” She nodded curiously, gaze still on the tree line. Was she scared? This might work for him.

“Wouldn’t be safe to go nightwalking. There are wolves you know.” There weren’t. Not when they were in the middle of Holland Valley. No where close to any predators that could hurt them.

“Wolves?” Room squeaked. He bit back the smile when she shifted closer to his side.

He closed his eyes shut, steadying himself. He didn’t know what love felt like, it had been so long since someone cared. He was waiting for butterflies in his stomach, to look in her eyes and see adoration reflecting back at him. All he saw was fear and confusion.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“What’s wrong?”

John grunted. Rubbing his hand across his beard, a frown concealed from her.

“Are you scared?”

His body tensed. No, no he had too much pride to admit fear. Even if it was fake.

Without prompting her to do so she suddenly switched their roles. Putting an arm over his shoulders and pulling him close to her side, pushing his head down to rest on her collarbone. “I can protect you. We’ll look out for each other.”

For a second he forgot what he was doing, the situation they lay in. “Why?” Muttered with the thought that she was still the deputy come to kill him.

“We’re friends. That’s what you said right?”

“I did.” There was a tiny scratch in his throat. His words were caught, hitching his breath.

He flinched when her hand came down to brush his hair out of his eyes. Rubbing her thumb across his forehead and going down the slope of his nose. Tapping his cheek with her palm. “This is gonna sound weird.”

John tipped his head back to look at her. More like look at the underside of her chin and jawline. From this angle he saw the faintest of scars running from ear to ear. It looked painful. Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

“What’s your name? I know that I know you, but I can’t remember. Can’t remember anything really.”

“It’s John.” His fingers came over to trace the pink line of her scar. With the amnesia she probably didn’t even know she had it, or how she got it for that matter.

John pulled back, holding out his hand for a shake. This could be it. When she got her memory back, fingers crossed that eventually it would come back, she’d know this moment when the man she hated was so close to her and didn’t harm her. He was civil. The thought made him smile.

“Do you remember your name?”

There was a hesitant nod. “Yes. I’ve got bits and pieces of things. With other memories there’s just a black hole. It’s fucking scary.” John squeezed her hand with a raised eyebrow.

“So what it is? Your name?”

This wasn’t important. He didn’t need to know tiny things about her, the things that made her more human. Like that scar under her chin, her name, or even the array of colors in her eyes he could now see with their proximity. It was stupid and he’d probably regret it.

“Deputy Hayes. Jordan Hayes.” Words that were spoken slow. Like the memories were flying away as soon as they came out of her mouth. She sounded unsure of herself, like she couldn’t trust her mind. “And I guess I’m a Deputy huh? I know that much.”

Strange she could recall that part of her life. Her brain probably blocking out all the trauma she faced in Hope County.

John collapsed back into her after the silence fell around them and it became too unbearable to think about her. The fact that in a different world this could’ve been the first time they met.

“Do you remember me?”

“No...not really. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It was, it was better that way. He didn’t need her to freak out. She still had her gun on her. John wasn’t looking to get shot after surviving rolling down a mountain.

Her arms were around him again. Holding him tighter and leaning towards the fire for warmth.

And there it was. That slightly nauseous feeling in his gut that made him shift uncomfortably. The kind of thing reserved for innocent young kids or new lovers. Not monsters like him. He murdered people. Tortured them. This wasn’t a gift from God. It was a fucking taunt. A glimpse of what he would never have because he slipped up one too many times in his life to go down a different road. He had a feeling this would end with his blood shed no matter what.

This was cruel. No one ever said God was merciful. People liked to believe that, but he knew firsthand that wasn’t true after all he’s been through.

Because what God would love such an awful man as himself? Why would God do something nice for the type of man John was.

Simple answer: He didn’t.

Rook made them lean back, let his head rest on her breasts until she was snoring soundly. Mind apparently at ease.

Not him. He didn’t want this. Didn’t want to see what would never be his.

John disentangled himself from her arms. Lying his jacket over her. A parting gift. He’d be dead by the end of the week, that he was sure of, call it intuition. At least she’d have something to remember him by. Something that brought back sour feelings, but he hoped she would remember this and think he wasn’t that bad. That at one time in his life he knew how to by sympathetic. He knew how to take care of people and show them the love he had never got. Show her the little boy his brothers knew.

“Goodbye Rookie.”


	9. Second Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: On the day John planned to propose to Rook (established relationship) he begins to doubt it all and his brothers are there to talk him through it

It had been weeks spent with this day running through his mind on repeat. He imagined what he would wear, where he’d take her when he popped the question, getting down on one knee. It was like a fairytale.

But life isn't like that. He should know by now that things don’t turn out the way he often thinks they will.

Everything was just fine when he woke up and bounced out of bed. Hands covering the small ring box. Every few seconds he’d open it up, rehearse what he’d say to her, how she would react. This went on for ten minutes.

That was a mistake. To replay that moment that was yet to come. With each reimagined scene his doubts grew.

Pray tell why a woman like her would love him? It wasn’t the first time he had these thoughts. His fear of rejection was something that always lingered. A part of him he tried to bury.

Oh he was so fucked. He curled up into bed, tossing the blankets over his body, lying in the fetal position, letting his eyes slip shut with the boxed ring held to his chest. It was early, he had time to just stay there for a few more hours. To mull over his decision.

“John?” There was a soft knock at the open door to his bedroom, a classic Joseph move if anything. “Are you ill? Should I call Rook?”

That got his attention. Made John’s lumpy form under the mountain of blankets shoot up, skin unnaturally pale, sweat glistening in the dark room. His eyes were too blue, shining with tears as he met Joseph’s gaze.

“Johnny?”

God it was like when they were younger. As John held out his arm and made a grabby motion, fingers clenching to signal he wanted his brother. A distressed whine falling out of his mouth. Pride was nothing at this point. Not with the battle raging through his head.

Joseph was sitting next to him in an instant. Arm wrapping around his shoulder and drawing him near. There was a soft kiss given on his forehead. Too reminiscent of the woman who was invading his thoughts.

“I can’t do it.”

Joseph tensed. “Do what John?”

“You know! Don’t act like you don’t.” He pushed against his older brother’s chest, breaking contact and scowling. “I just can’t ask her. And out of the blue like this, I can’t.”

“Why not? It’s so simple.”

“It’s not simple for people like us. Like me.” He tossed the blankets away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Rolling his shoulders as he hunched over. Forearms rested on his knees, head hanging down.

“The fuck is that suppose to mean?”

John flinched at Jacob’s voice, didn’t realize he had been listening to them.

“John, what’s that supposed to mean?”

There was the sound of Joseph shushing their eldest brother. He tried to tune it out.

“It’s…it means—“ he hadn’t meant to say that. It had slipped out. Something that had been going round and round in his head like a carousel. Something that no one was going to hear if everything went according to plan. Yet here they were, with him being interrogated by his family. One much more angry than the other.

“With the life we had, the one we’re leading...we don’t get happiness that easily. For fucks sake she calls her parents every weekend, she had Christmas parties each year.” John hiccuped, tripping over his words and brushing tears away. “She used to go to dance rehearsals and do horseback riding. She was normal and happy.”

“So she grew up different, that doesn’t change—“

John stood suddenly, stomping over to where Jacob was leaning against the doorway. He got up close to his face, finger jabbing in his chest.

“Yes. It changes everything. It means everything. She’s different. Not damaged. I am. I’m so fucking beyond broken, something that can’t be fixed. Sooner or later she’ll realize that. Get sick of me. Then what?”

Joseph’s hand squeezed his shoulder. Anxiety on his features. “It’s been two years. John if she was scared or afraid of you then she’d of done something. Said something. It’s looking good for you two. Don’t go looking for a problem, you’ll be bound to find something that’s not really there. You’re being paranoid.”

He rolled his eyes, snorting in disbelief. “Wasn’t it you who said the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh?”

“Yes, I did. And he’s giving. After all these years he is gifting you someone who can help. Don’t squander this opportunity.”

Wrath was bubbling up. Anger at the world for putting him through his childhood and making him all wrong. Anger for who he was and the life he had as a young adult who adored a drug filled lifestyle. Anger that his brothers were interfering with his life. His teeth ground together, ready to wear down to nothing in order to keep his mouth shut.

When the phone rang he flinched, cowering where he stood. He knew who it was, told her to give him a call later. That they’d meet up. In his mind’s eye he saw the picture he saved as her contact. One he took by the water. He held the phone far back, up in the air so they had to crane their necks. She was nuzzling into his neck, only one eye showing, the other pressing into his skin. She was kissing his throat, a half smile teasing her lips. He shuddered, feeling the phantom touch as he stood still in his room.

He hadn’t reacted when Jacob crossed the room to grab his cell, answering the call and shoving it up to John’s ear.

Nope. He wasn’t doing that.

His lips sealed tight. Going closed like a child.

“John? You there?” He caught a sob in his throat. “John?” He shook his head rapidly. Eyes moving between his brothers. Mouthing the word ‘no.’

Jacob drew it back, holding it up to his own ear. “Deputy.”

John turned around, away from that scene. Biting on his nails, something he hasn’t done since he was a child. Joseph pulled him close, hugging him, drawing his head to his chest, petting over his hair as they listened to the one sided call.

“He’s not looking too hot.” Jacob shot a cursory glance at the two of them.

“Don’t think he’d like you very much if you did that.” Jacob laughed, eyes catching Joseph’s. A smile forming as the deputy went on and on. Words of concern falling from her lips.

“That’s your call. I’m not gonna stop you pup. But you’ve been warned.” The phone clicked shut.

John stayed where he was, safe in Joseph’s arms. Shaking slightly.

“She’s coming over here John.”

This time around he couldn’t hold back the sob that came out. He was around family, they wouldn’t judge him for this moment of weakness. “You wanted her in person to get the news that her and I were done huh?”

“Stop panicking.” Jacob smacked him on the shoulder. “Besides, she was adamant. Didn’t think I’d be able to stop her. No way, I’m not about to get between the two of you.”

John broke away from Joseph, collapsing back on his bed. Drawing his knees up to his chest, blankets back over his body. “Leave, the both of you.”

There was the unmistakable sound of Jacob’s thumping footsteps moving away.

“John…”

“Leave Joseph.”

“Please remember what we said.”

He grunted, the only answer he was prepared to give.

By the time the deputy arrived he was already drifting closer to sleep. On the verge of passing out when she burst into the room. Wild gaze sweeping over the room.

“Joseph and Jacob...they spoke to me.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I don’t wanna be rude, but John...you’re kinda delusional. Thinking I don’t want you. You must really be as crazy as people say you are.”

“Rook, I love you, but leave me alone. Turn back around and just forget about this.”

“Not happening Johnny. Not a chance in hell.” She took careful steps towards him, bending down on one knee on the floor, close to him.

She leaned close to brush their noses together. In his eyes she saw his fears, his insecurities. He thought he hid it so well. That he wasn’t an open book. If only he knew.

“You, you are so much more than you know John. I may not fully understand what’s running through your head. But I know that everyone who you’ve ever known as either been taken from you or they mistreated you. That’s why you’re scared.”

He didn’t move. Blank eyes staring ahead.

“I’m staying here. Until you come to your senses and see that I’m not going to leave you like everyone else, I’m right here.”

“You’ve got other people who need you Deputy.”

“Not as much as you do. Not even close.” Her lips brushed over his temple. “I’ll stay here. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

John let his eyes slip closed. Allowed himself to be pulled to her side as she clambered into bed behind him. Let himself fall into a restless sleep. Praying that she was truthful. That this would be the one he had been waiting for all his life.


	10. Thief (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: The Deputy takes over Seed ranch unaware that John’s hiding out and is still there. When nighttime falls and she stays the night he wastes no time in punishing her

If she ever saw John again—without getting shot on sight—she’d have to remember to thank him for having such a beautiful house.

For one person it was a bit much. It must get lonely. Really, she was doing him a favor.

Rook was giving herself a tour, running her hands along small knick knacks scattered around on pristine shelves. She raided the fridge and cupboards. Hefting around food and trailing breadcrumbs behind her as she tottered around, peaking into the large rooms. Flicking on lights and taking in the scenery.

From certain rooms she even had a nice view of the nearby lake.

Yep. This was her place now. This is where she’d spend her nights. Fuck, she was willing to wave the white flag if it meant she got to keep John’s ranch. Too bad the man was probably already whining to his family about it. Thinking about ways to get back at her. Like any of his plans worked before. The idea made her snort, sending a spray of water out of her mouth that got all over the wooden floors in the hallway.

Angry John painted a very funny picture in her head. He was what? 5”8 maybe 5”10, him showing his wrath, that’d be a sight she’d pay to see. So long it wasn’t directed at her. She had a feeling he wasn’t too good at controlling his rage. If she was there when it happened—her hand shot out to knock on the wooden railing—he’d tear her to shreds.

Rook deposited her food down on a nearby dresser when she walked into the final room she yet to explore. The fifth bedroom in this mansion of a ranch. The biggest too. Meaning that this one was where John slept, and she couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want to sleep in here? Her mind was already clouding over with sleep at the sight of the bed.

The door to her right caught her attention first, she’d told the resistance she’d stay the night, check through the rooms just in case they missed anyone. So as alluring as the bed looked, she trudged herself over and flung the door open. A gasp slipped from her lips at the sight of it.

John Seed has a walk in closet. Well; had. The whole ‘this being her house now’ still applied.

She was in heaven. This was the kind of house she imagined having when she was a child and thought she’d have a better paying job than a deputy.

The stars have aligned. Her hands ran through his outfits. Apparently he had more clothes than those blue buttons ups and tacky vests. Her eyes dialed in on the pajamas. That’s what she needed, she’d skip the bath, mind conjuring up memories of the large tub she found a few rooms back. Knowing how tired she was she’d just pass out and drown. Not the best way to go out after she gained such a reputation.

“Oh John.” Rook whispered as she grazed her cheek along a soft looking t shirt. It was taken off the hanger and she flung off her clothes to replace it with the baggy shirt. It hung down low, showing off way too much, suddenly she was thankful she was alone. Rook shimmied off her jeans, whining at the feeling of them coming off after days of not cleaning up. They were sticking to her skin in the worst of ways.

Nothing he had would fit her lower half, except...she dove into a storage bin full of underwear. Ranging from boxers to a tight fitting pair that wouldn’t leave too much to the imagination if she ever saw John in it.

Fuck. Not the best thought to have before she fell asleep.

She grabbed onto a pair of boxers to slip over her panties. They worked well enough as shorts.

Before walking out she glanced at a full length mirror, she looked like a kid playing a dress up. But she was comfy, she’d trade vanity for comfort any day.

The door to the closet clicked softly shut behind her and her eyes fell to the bed.

She let out an audible groan when she flopped down face first on the mattress. Inhaling deeply at the scent of freshly washed sheets. She murmured a half hearted sarcastic thanks to The Baptist, grabbing the blankets and caccooning herself.

Rook squirmed to get comfortable. Rolling onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. God, those thoughts of John were still roaming through her head. He was attractive and she was alone, for once in Hope County she was relatively safe.

She’d be stupid to not take advantage of this situation.

*****

John had his ear pressed against the door. Eyes slammed shut as if that would heighten his sense of hearing.

Turns out it did wonders. Even with the walls between them he could hear her padding footsteps on the carpet as she neared his closet. He tensed, even thought it was unlikely she’d find the hidden bathroom.

The entire time he was bubbling with rage. For the past hour and a half he had to sit here and listen to his men get slaughtered by a single woman. It added insult to injury to hear her wander around his house like it was her own. And he suppose it was now. Though it was worth it to listen to her ooh and ahh at his home. It was his pride and joy, he was more than happy that she was impressed.

John dropped at hand to fist at his shirt when he heard her groan out his name. Rook was a sinner, breaking into his house, stealing his clothes judging by the clattering noise of the hanger as she tossed it carelessly on the ground.

Then the compression of his mattress as she closed the closet door, squeaking under her weight. His fists clenched as he heard her let out a moan of satisfaction. Then another, and another.

Oh.

Was she…? She was really touching herself in his bed. She was defiling herself, sinning, in his bed.

John rocked his hips into the door when his jeans grew tight. Muttering some prayer about temptation as he paced around the small space.

When he heard her finish he had to hold himself back from bursting in there and punishing her, making her confess to what he knew to be true. In the end he decided to wait thirty minutes before he went out to go check on his deputy. The element of surprise was best used on someone who was basically a one woman army.

The sight of her in his bed, blankets tangled at her waist, it made him seethe. Seeing her so peaceful was angering after all he’s lost because of her. Christ, she wasn’t even cleaning up after herself. A pile of food and drinks were on his dresser, half opened bags and containers. Her dirty clothes were in the corner of the room. Who raised this heathen?

It wasn’t even a question in his mind to take matters in his own hand, to make her pay. Lucky for him he had just the assortment of silk ropes to keep her bound so she wouldn’t be able to escape this impromptu confession.

John tossed the ropes next to her sleeping form and went to straddle her. Moving slow and wincing when the bed creaked under him. His hands gripped her shoulders, pushing her down and watching her chest rise and fall. So he was right, she’d stolen his shirt, and, straying lower he pulled down the blankets to see she was sporting a dark pair of his boxers. The audacity she had never ceased to amaze him.

“Filthy sinner.”

His hand encircled her wrists, stringing them up to each of the poles at either end of the bed. One last glare to her unconscious body and he moved down to do the same to her legs. Spread eagle position.

He couldn’t take her confession like this, with her unaware. Besides, confession and atonement was nothing without pain.

“Wakey wakey dep.” John sang softly in her ear as he placed himself back over her form. Hands cupping her cheek, blunt nails digging into her skin. He loved the way her eyes fluttered open, how she seemed confused and scared before zoning in on him.

Rook tried to scramble up immediately, finding herself immobile. “J-John.”

“Shush. My time for talking now. I’ve got so much to say.” He leaned back, hands pushing up the t shirt she was wearing. “Stealing is wrong.”

She held a glare in her eyes. Ever stubborn.

“Say it! Admit to it!” His fist came down on the soft part of her stomach. Making her gasp and wheeze.

“Yes!” She yelped out. Back arching off the mattress. “Stealing’s wrong. I’m sorry.” John nodded once, pushing the shirt up above her head and leaving it to rest there. He wasn’t about to cut his own shirt off her. His fingers strayed lower as he moved to sit on her thighs, light touches that made her wiggle around until he came to the boxers she wore. “These are mine too, if I’m not mistaken.”

“They are.” She sounded so small. He loved it.

“Hm. Good. Someone’s learning.” The underwear was torn down, getting stuck at her thighs. He muttered a curse under his breath and moved to undo one of the bindings around her leg. “Don’t try anything.” He went painstakingly slow as he freed a single leg, bending it to slip the boxers off. He hummed his approval as he tied her back up, pressing a kiss to her ankle in praise.

“John. Just let me leave. You can take your ranch and I won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Do you think I’m a fool Deputy?” He stood with his hands on his hips, head tilted as he gazed at her almost naked form. “I’ve finally got you, you came right to me. I’m not missing this opportunity.”

She bucked her hips angrily. “What? Do you want a confessions? Fine. Get your ass over here cause I’m not repeating myself.”

John smiled, a giddy feeling swelling in his chest as he went back to straddle her, hands resting flat on her stomach.

“I’m wrathful, you know that. And god if I could get my hands on you I’d break your fucking nose.” She let out a deep breath when John merely chuckled at her show of anger. “Rumor has it that your brother thinks I’m prideful. So go ahead and mark that down.”

“You’re a thief, you’re inconsiderate of other people’s feelings.” His tattooed hand clamped down to cover her mouth when she went to protest. “I mean, did you ever think for a moment, ever care to wonder where I’d sleep? How I would live Deputy? It’s rude.”

He pulled away, letting his fingers toy with the waistband of her panties.

“Guess I’m greedy too.”

“Damn straight you are.”

“So...we’re done here?”

John laughed, reaching over to grab something from his bedside table. “You must swim across an ocean of pain in order to be born anew. If that doesn't happen then this hasn’t been done right. You must experience pain to realize the magnitude of the sins you’ve committed.”

He held up a small vibrator, smiling as he flicked it on and wasted no time shoving it up inside her. She was still wet and sore from a few hours earlier. “Don't think I didn’t hear what you did in my bed Deputy. You’re a lustful girl and you neglected to mention it.” John clicked his tongue in disappointment. Watching her squirm and buck up into his hips. She continued her movements, pressing up into the bulge that was in his jeans.

“Please.” John pretended like he didn’t hear her, simply cut away the fabric that covered her sex, index finger spreading her, rubbing at her clit in leisurely strokes as if he had all day. And to punish a sinner like her, he’d clear his whole damn schedule. “John—“

“Begging’s not going to help here dep.” As if to prove his point he added his finger up inside her along with the vibrator. Thumb pressing painfully hard on her nub. Pulling out when her voice rose in pitch, getting too close. “You need to experience pain to understand this lesson, or else confessions would be useless. How many times do I need to repeat myself?” With that said he pushed her bra up, tweaking her nipples until they stood at attention.

On a whim, he leaned down to suck one of the buds into his mouth. Tongue flicking around and bruising the skin of both her breasts.

His hands slipped down to take out the vibrator when he heard her getting close again. He palmed over himself, unzipping his jeans to relieve some pressure. His bottom lip with stuck between his teeth. Considering. He might as well make this pleasurable for some one. After all she’s put him through he deserved it.

All thoughts of sinning and one of the many sermons he often gave to the people of Eden’s Gate flooded out of his head when he shoved himself into her. Let his cock get clamped down on by her fluttering walls. Finally fluttering around something so much more substantial than the toy that was previously inside her.

His thrusts were only to chase his own end. Looking for his pleasure, she was still being punished. That’s why he went blindingly fast, forearms caging her in as he pushed himself deeper into her. Growling and snarling until he finished off. Coming to a stop before she could follow after him.

Rook bucked her hips repeatedly, whining, eyes closed tightly shut. “John?”

“Sorry Deputy.” And pulling out of her he did feel guilty. Seeing her wince when she was no longer stuffed full. He rubbed her cheek, brushing tears away. “We’ll deal with your atonement tomorrow.”


	11. Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: John relapses his drug addiction

Drugs were littered all around Hope County. They were in no way short of their famous ‘oregano.’ It was a constant temptation for John to stay away from. After all he’s been through, all the tough times when he sought out solace in his flock or his brothers, he had been able to find distractions. Other ways to cope with the stress brought on by Eden’s Gate or the toxic thoughts that crowded his mind on too many occasions.

The deputy kept him occupied, busy. How could he think about destroying his life again with her by his side? She was the love of his life. Grappled him out of the many ruts he got lost in that he just couldn’t explain.

But she wasn’t always there. Going off to play hero for someone, maybe someone she deemed more important than him. That thought tore him to shreds. Made him clamber back home, foregoing the use of his car because he didn’t need people to recognize the large van he had when he went to the corner that everyone knew was strictly for selling drugs.

Not pot. None of that kiddie shit. He wanted something stronger. The kind he bought when he was some hotshot lawyer having sex with strangers every other night. He went for the stuff that could properly fuck you up it you weren’t careful; cocaine, heroin, the things that reminded him of when he didn’t have the responsibility of a baptist. Pocketing it and trying to push away the feelings of guilt, weighing down heavily on him as it he had already used it. He still had time to say no.

The thought made him snort with the way he usually preached.

The Power of Yes.

Yes.

He was doing this. That’s what he told himself for the hundredth time as he lined up cocaine in neat little lines. Muscle memory at this point as he leaned down, bracing himself.

The familiar rush that came along with it had him groaning in delight. Why’d he ever quit?

John’s eyes strayed over to the assortment of pictures lining the walls. Right. His brothers. He chose family over the drugs and it made him strong. Got him in a good place, lead him towards the deputy. She’d be mad, or hell, maybe he’d be able to convince her to join. He chuckled as he snorted more of the white powder up his nose. Wiping away the evidence that gathered on his skin.

Time to switch it up.

Needles were cheap on the internet. Bought weeks before when he was simply teasing the idea. Back then it had been a distant thought that made him gag at just imagining doing it again. So much happened in a couple months. Way too much for him to handle on his own.

He tied a thick, large rubber band over his bicep, finding a vein fast and pricking himself. Mixing the two drugs after being clean for so long couldn’t be smart. When he was younger he didn’t care, whatever he could get his hands on, whatever they were doling out at the parties ended up in his system. It was nice to let loose. To just float in a state of bliss. He could get use to this again real quick.

*****

“John?”

The lights were off when she drove up, alarming with how early it was. John was a night owl, could barely get his ass up in the morning. But with the sin of sloth looming heavily over his head she didn’t have to worry about it too much.

She flicked on the kitchen lights, depositing groceries that she picked up on her way here. She hasn’t seen him in a week, too busy over in the Henbane. Now that she was back she was expecting the whole nine yards with John. How he’d fall all over her, practically smother her with affection. Something he's been so starved of that she was more than happy to give.

A smile crept over her face as she turned towards the living room. Maybe he fell asleep waiting up for her. It’s happened before. Where his leg would fall of the couch and he’d be covered with a thin blanket, goosebumps littering his skin. She’d wake him up slow with a kiss, flopping down on top of him his to rouse him with her sudden weight.

Already she could hear his squeals of annoyance from waking him from a good dream.

“John, you in here?”

The breath caught in her throat as she raked her eyes over him. He looked awful, and the syringe in his loose grasp wasn’t doing him any favors.

There was a white substance coating the table, and she wasn’t naive. Even if drugs wasn’t something she had grown up around. She knew what this was. Knew enough about his past. Scattered rumors around the Valley that he eventually told her about himself. With tears in his eyes and a tight grasp on her shirt, pleas on his lips. “Don’t leave me. Dear God please don’t leave me dep.” She visibly winced at the memory.

“No. No, no. Johnny.” As she took steps closer she saw him recoil, turning away from her and curling in on himself. “What did you do?”

The blank stare he gave her almost made her cry. His hand still held the syringe. One that she quickly snagged from him when she close enough. “Answer me John.” She tossed the thing on the table, out of reach. Her hands cupped his cheeks. “What did you do? What did you take?” Her questions were met by an onslaught of tears coming from the man in front of her. He was shaking, trembling worse than she’s ever seen. Bloodshot eyes darting around, never able to land on her. To just focus. He was all sorts of fucked up. So far gone.

And maybe about to die.

Rook was tugging him up. Worrying about the mess later; when John wasn’t about to keel over from whatever concoction of drugs that were running through his veins.

He was all apologies as she helped him up the stairs. Letting him lean on her as they stumbled together. She let him sob on her, cradled his head as she guided him into the bathroom. Gentle hands coaxing the both of them on the tiled floor.

“Gotta get that crap outta your system.”

John was shaking his head as she forced his mouth over the toilet. “I’m fine. It’s safe. I know what I took.” He looked bad though. Extremely pale, sweat sticking to his skin.

Rook took a deep breath before unceremoniously shoving two of her fingers down his throat. In his drugged out state he didn’t have the strength to pull her away, could only sit back and let her trigger his gag reflex until he emptied his stomach. Sounds of him coughing filled the room, tears were at the corners of his eyes as he threw up. Whining and clawing at her to get away. “I’m helping you John.”

“You’re fucking killing me.”

She tensed as he spit one last time and staggered to stand. Using the sink to keep him upright. He splashed water in his face, guzzling from the faucet. “I’m killing you? What about the drugs Johnny?”

“They,” he spun around, water droplets clinging to his beard, “are helping me. Making me relax.”

She rushed towards him, grabbing him in a tight hug. “Not gonna lose you John. Please, please don’t think like that.” Rook pulled back to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re not leaving my side for the next couple of weeks. I’m watching over you.”

John frowned, bright eyes dipping in and out of focus. How much of this would he remember come morning?

“Do you wanna die John?”

“I can’t.” Suddenly he laughed. Shaking his head as he broke free from her grasp to scramble into bed. “I’m too fucking busy to die. Imagine that!” Another bark of laughter that scared her.

“But if you could—“

“I guess.” She flinched at his words. Thinking of John cold and gone made her heart race and bile rise in her throat. “Wouldn’t leave you though. If that’s what you’re worried about.” John was watching her from underneath a mound of blankets.

“Right.” Rook sat by the bed, kneeling on the floor, holding his hand until he fell asleep. That’s when she cried. She stumbled out to the balcony and sobbed, useless prayers floating up and disappearing into the silent night.


	12. Forgetfulness (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: John stumbles back to his ranch after a few too many completely forgetting that the deputy had already laid claimed to his ranch. Of course he wouldn't hesitate in waking her up when he finds her tangled in his blankets, curled in his bed like she owned the place--oh wait.

His vision was spinning. Twisting and turning the world around him. Making his feet trip along the dirt path to his ranch.

Thinking about it now, he shouldn’t have gone out so late. Really should have stayed at his bunker and continue on with his confessions. But the place was getting stifling. Making it appear so much smaller as he stayed there 24/7. Working, always working. It was grating on his nerves. A pounding beat in the back of his mind to be the best, to live up to his family’s expectations. To make them proud. It tiring. Which is why he filled his belly with enough alcohol to stop a weaker man from stumbling out into the night to get some fresh air. Not him though. He powered on, whistling some off beat tune and trying to remember the way back to his house. The same house he hadn’t been to in a week. Because…

John shook his head in annoyance. As if that would shake the memories back into place. All it served to do was make him lose his balance as he passed the threshold of the large double doors. He ended up lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Almost falling asleep right there. Contemplating it for a few seconds before his spine began screaming in pain and he realized that when he woke up he’d rather nurse his hangover in a bed.

A groan slipped free from his lips at the thought of his plush mattress. God, why did he leave again? He might be getting more confessions done while sleeping at his bunker, but he worked hard for this house and he intended to use it. With those thoughts crowding his mind he angrily stomped up the stairs, a huff leaving him as he struggled with the buttons on his vest. Eventually ruining it all together and tearing it off of his body. With heaving breaths he squirmed out of his pants, standing on one leg and almost falling over on several occasions. Hopping around on one leg and making way too much noise.

John pivoted to look over at his bed, forming some half assed game plan for making it there without falling over. Yeah, he remembered why he was glad he stopped drinking. He took shaky steps forward only to pause at the sight that lay before him. There was a large mound of blankets covering the form of Rook. She was curled up in the fetal position. Hands brought up, fisted in the blankets, covering her mouth. She looked cute with what he could make out in the darkness. She looked delectable. And she was here, in his ranch. Surely this wasn’t a coincidence.

Change of plans. John clapped his hands together, a smile forming as he made his way towards her. Hunching over slightly, hand laid flat by the side of her head, other one on her shoulder in a tight grip. “Deputy.” He gave a rough shake, tapping her face lightly when he garnered no response. “Dep!” Said right by her ear in what he believed to be a whisper but was more akin to a breathy yell. It did the trick. Made her jerk into wakefulness with wide eyes searching the darkness. He heard her breathing stutter as she realized that she wasn't alone. “Finally.” John gave her a smile before yanking the blankets off her, tossing them on the floor. Her hands rose up in a surrender position. Watching him with a strange curiosity. He shoved her legs apart, slotting himself in between. Head resting on her hip.

“John.”

“Shush, M’tired.” His words were too slurred for it to just be from fatigue alone. It didn't take much for her to pick up on the scent that lingered on his skin.

“Are you drunk?”

He rose his head up slightly, staring at his hands as they rubbed across her ribs. Pushing her tattered shirt up. “Maybe just a little.” He moved forward, swatting away the deputy's hand and pinning it down when she tried to push him away. His hold on her wasn't that strong, he was way too out of it to be much of a worthy opponent. But for the time being he was acting civil. Playing nice and not getting angry with her. So she sat still as he explored the expense of skin he had exposed. His hands were warm at least.

Rook petted over his hair, scratching at his scalp when he leaned into her touch. He was like a large cat when his mind was muddled with alcohol, slowing his movements and making him so much more demure. Dared she say pleasant to be around. She almost felt safe. Content to just let him paw at her with uncoordinated hands that were groping higher up her shirt. Going as far as to shove his head up her shirt, kissing the underside of her breast.

She leaned back against the pillows. Hands curling into fists with the realization she shouldn’t have tossed her bra off when she went to bed tonight. She shouldn’t have let her guard down enough for this man to sneak up on her and tug one of her nipples into his mouth. Beard scratching pleasantly on her sensitive skin.

He yanked at her pants, pulling away from her, hair mussed from being covered by the fabric of her clothes. “Take these off.”

“Are you in a position to be making demands John?” At her sharp tone his eyes widened. Coming back to himself and knowing that she was right. That his men weren’t the ones in control of this area. Even with her words she still went to kick off her jeans. Letting him tug it the rest of the way down when it got stuck around her ankles.

“My god.” Whispered reverently as he stroked up and down her thighs. “Deputy.” John groaned as he suddenly shoved his face on the front of her panties. Inhaling deeply and licking the outline of her folds.

“J-John!” Her knees came up protectively. Going to lock around his head. Her panties were shoved to the side so he could get better access. Eating like a man starved. Making lewd noises as he explored her. Lapping at her juices and pulling away with wetness coating his beard. He simply gave her an award winning smile. Reaching up under her shirt to tug at her nipple. Laughing when she squealed. Suddenly much more aware, fighting the pull of alcohol.

“We aren’t fucking John.”

He looked offended when she said it. Hand laying flat against his chest, covering his sin. Eyebrows hitched upward. “I would never. That’s lust my dear.” Rook rolled her eyes, like him eating her out wasn’t lustful. “Not to mention premarital sex. Highly frowned upon.” With his words came his index finger circling around her entrance. Jamming inside her and quirking upward. “But,” he pulled out suddenly, licking his finger clean, “if you’re really against it we can just go to sleep.” It took all her willpower not to shove his head back down. To yell at him when he started acted all domestic as he came to lie next to her.

He had amazing self control. Ignoring the bulge in his underwear as he pulled her close. Pressing their bodies together. “Maybe you’ll change your mind tomorrow morning.”


	13. Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: John gets jealous when the deputy is giving her attention towards Peaches, and definitely makes it known that he want her affection

Rook was kneeling on the muddy ground, blissfully unaware to the world around her as she gave Peaches some well deserved pats on the head. Smoothing back her ears as the large cat purred in delight. She leaned forward to press a kiss to her snout, cooing at how beautiful her eyes were. Praising falling from her lips with how well she did.

It just so happened that she was so unaware, so ignorant, as to not realize the shit storm brewing just a few feet away in the form of a very angry baptist. His arms were crossed over his chest, a scowl on his lips, watching the deputy pour her affection on a damn cougar when he deserved that too. He worked his ass off just as much, if not more, where's his love?

He puffed out a large breath of air as he stalked forward. Coming up behind her with his shoulders hunched. The long shadow that shrouded Rook made her glance over her shoulder. A smile gracing her features. She pulled away from the cat, making him relax just a tad. Until that stupid animal—Peaches?—jumped into her lap at the lack of touch, licking a stripe up her cheek and stealing his deputy away again.

No. Nope. He wasn’t having it. Absolutely not. He wasn’t about to be one upped by a cat.

John flopped down next to her. Baby blue eyes looking up at her as he rested his head down on her shoulder. Pushing kisses into her neck to no avail. Letting his hands wander. Rubbing soothing circles on her back.

A snarl came from his lips, envy painting his world black as he gently shoved the cougar out at the way, a simple push to her muscled shoulder and John flopped down into Rook’s now available lap. Thanking God that the cougar was so well trained as to not rip his throat out.

He laid across her legs on his back, squinting up at her with a half smile on his lips.

“Did you just—“ She let out a frustrated sigh, an angry scowl on her lips that didn’t match the amusement in her eyes. “Really John? Really?”

“C’mon dep.” John took her hand, moving it to cup his cheek. Humming in delight when she moved her other hand to run across his chest. Blunt nails digging across his scar of sloth and nudging his key out of the way.

“Jealous?”

He laughed, kissing her wrist as he turned his head. “So fucking jealous.”


	14. Yes (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: The Deputy says yes to John and sticks around for the aftermath. Toturing her with a method centralized around lust

“Yes.”

One word. Simple and sweet. Just for the crazy nutcase standing in front of her baring a fucking knife sharpener and a toolbox she couldn’t see from her angle strapped to a chair a few feet away.

Yes; said in the hopes that she could get this all done with as quickly as possible. Maybe she’d save Hudson from the same torture, even if it was just for a few hours. Distract John, talk to him during this little confession. Trade herself for Hudson.

Rook spun tales of how that exchange would go as she waited for his return. Trying not to focus on the growing pit of anxiety in her stomach. Making her squirm and whine out of annoyance for her inner battle.

“Already whimpering for me Deputy?”

She jolted where she sat. Arms tugging violently before the realization of being tied kicked in and rubbed her skin the wrong way. Causing her face to lance up in a show of pain that she tried to cover.

“Careful now.” He chucked her under the chin, spinning around with a flourish, hands diving into his battered old toolbox. A shade of dusty blue...because of course it was. “How about I change those ropes for something else. I know how,” he sighed heavily, searching for the words. “How taxing they can be. They hurt don’t they? And though confession is not truly revealing without pain, I’d rather you focus on a different feeling than the one in your wrists.” In his hands he pulled taut something much silkier that made her numb flesh throb with just the thought of it. A lavender color that heavily contrasted with the set of greys and blacks around them.

“Don't do anything stupid.” Said with a sharp jab to the soft skin of her stomach. Making her curl inward as much as her restraints would allow.

Her fingers flexed as he re-tied them, almost twice as tight. Humming some tune in her ear and placing his hand around the back of her neck. A kind gesture laced with sinister intentions, stroking such a delicate area. It set her heart racing, made her squirm. But it’d take so much more to break her than idle threats and swift punches. She could handle this.

“The Father was very clear to me how important it is that you reach atonement. But first,” He leaned in impossibly closer, beard tickling her skin as he whispered in her ear. “First you must confess.” A final squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away. The warmth he was giving off when he bared down on her back was not missed.

“I’ve spent so many nights thinking how I could get you to confess to me so I wouldn’t fail, so I wouldn’t disappoint Joseph.” His hands delved into his toolbox, pulling things out seemingly at random. Tossing them down to the left of him, out of view. “And finally it came to me. Like a bright light, like—“ he laughed, gathering the assortment of items in his hands and dropping them at her feet, leaning in close so all she could see was him. “Like God showed it to me Himself. Told me how to break you. Because you’re just a woman. A woman with wants and needs. Desires and sinful ethics. This will make you crack.”

He held up a shiny knife as he sat back on his heels. Cutting up her leggings, slicing it carefully as not to draw blood. “Normally I wouldn’t resort to such circumstances. Not when others would consider it to be bathed in sin, but this must be done. To save you. And dear, I care so deeply about other’s salvation that I am willing to indulge in my sin to make sure you can walk into Eden’s Gate fully cleansed.”

“Well aren’t you nice. Should I be thanking you?” The first time she had spoken and it had been exactly what he expected. Some snarky comment that had him chuckling. He’d change that soon enough. Make her sing a different tune by the time he was done with her and ready to release her from his bunker, into the open arms of The Father.

“You should. I don’t get much thanks from sinners who refuse my help. Maybe this'll change that, you can be an example for others.” Her legs were already jammed open, tied to keep them splayed. Enough for him to fit his body in between. He held up a single finger, making sure she knew exactly what he intended to do when he dove it towards her folds. Running it up and down her covered slit.

“You’re quiet.” John murmured. Not at all pleased with the results. Hoping to have her on edge with just the most simplest of touches. “Are you used to this? Has this been done recently?” All he got was the role of her eyes, which refused to meet his. “You can tell me dep. there’s no judgement down here.” At the last word he pressed down on her clit, which had become enlarged with his gentle touche. The smallest of bumps underneath her panties for him to focus on. It had her jerk in her restraints. Hissing out through her teeth.

“There we go.” The look on his face was nothing short of ecstatic. He tugged her panties to the side, pushing a finger inside her. This time it was his turn to let out a sharp breath at the way her heat clamped down on him. Pulling him in deeper and accepting the offered digit. From behind him he clicked on a small vibrator. Not bothering to hide it when the noise was amplified in such a small room. It was pressed directly to her clit. Sending shivers down her spine as he crooked his finger. Swirling it around to map out every inch of her.

“I think I know your sins dear. But you see,” another finger joined the one already lost inside her, “It has to be you to admit it. To agree that you carry these sins.”

She came a few seconds later. With her chest heaving and head tipped back. Hips bucking up as much as she could, something John didn’t discourage in the slightest.

When he didn’t stop his movements, just added a third finger to the mix, that’s when she realized he had no intentions of stopping. That he’d keep going until he heard her sins. “I said yes John, this isn’t—“ she yelped when he switched out the smaller vibrator for something that had more power behind it. A larger bullet head that she couldn't squirm away from. “This isn’t necessary.” Rook panted, curling forward when her gut flipped around with another approaching orgasm.

“Well you haven’t told me them yet. Go on, I'm listening.” But he wasn’t really. Too preoccupied with how his fingers were shoved inside her in a pyramid formation, stacked on eachother and stretching her out. He separated his fingers while they were still jammed in her heat, watching her cunt try to close around him. The way he was working her over made talking difficult. Had her cutting her words off every few seconds.

When her second orgasm hit it was followed with John’s name. Long and drawn out. It went straight to his cock. To his own lust.

“Yes Deputy?”

“Stop, please just stop.” The vibrator was amped up a setting as a response, resulting in her high pitched scream that echoed around them.

“Sorry, what was that?” He tipped his head innocently. “I couldn’t hear you. Try again. Speak clearly.” She couldn’t get her words out for the rest of the night. Not with how he was treating her, not when a few minutes later he shoved a ball gag in her mouth. That was fine, John could wait all day if he needed to, until she was nothing more than a plaint, malleable woman who would agree to anything to make him stop.


	15. Pegging (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: John getting pegged

It was John’s idea. Something he mumbled after fucking her against the mattress ruthlessly. He laid limply on top of her, panting into her ear and so close to falling asleep, yet cock protesting, hardening against the apex of her thigh so soon after they finished. He was nuzzling into her neck, inhaling her scent and saying next time he should be below her. Revealed how turned on he’d be with her taking charge for once.

And wasn’t that a nice thought. Making a man like John turn weak despite being revered like a God by Eden’s Gate. Oh the things people would say if they knew she could bring him to his knees. Put him in his place and just dominate him. It was a suggestion that she couldn’t picture too easily. But one that she was more than happy to acquiesce to.

She cupped his cheeks as he stayed on top of her, pressing his weight down on her, subtly grinding into her. Using up the last of his energy on getting off one more time and trying to open his eyes as she lifted his head. “You’d really let me do that?”

“Mhm.” He smiled softly. A groan slipping free of his lips at the sensitivity of his cock. “I want you to fuck me.”

That was a confession she didn’t expect to hear. But he was close to cumming for the second time that night and so tired that he was spewing whatever came to mind.

“I can do that John, I won’t disappoint.”

“I know dear—“ he came on her thigh. Whining and muscles going lax a second later. Letting her pet back his hair lovingly. “I trust you.”

That’s all she needed to hear. To know that when they found themselves tangled up like this again, tangled in sin with John fitting snugly into his role as Judas, that he’d be more than willing to hand the reins over.

When it happened again, because it was inevitably going to fit into their schedule at some point, she came prepared. Her bag was stuffed with the usual, save for one item that she hoped John wouldn’t gawk at. Prayed that he’d at least give it a try.

He let her push him down onto the mattress, let her flip him onto his stomach with a surprised grunt and glint of amusement as he looked over his shoulder. Already naked, cock hard and pressed against the blankets. Leaking onto the expensive fabric. She kissed down the arch of his spine, hands running across his thighs as she crept lower. Spreading his cheeks, and before he could protest, licking a stripe over his taint. Making him suck in a breath. “Get on with it Deputy.”

“You tease me all the time.”

“This is different.” John groaned as he buried his head into the crook of his arm. Thrusting his hips to try and gain some friction.

While his eyes were still enveloped into darkness in his arm, she was quick to reach into her bag, left next to the bed. Forgotten about by John. Definitely not by her, not when she had some lacy outfit in there that had a strap on connected to it. He did say he wanted her to fuck him. She doubts he remembered that, or that he was being serious about it. Yet she couldn’t get the thought out of her head.

John wasn’t stretched at all, not in the slightest. Maybe back in the day when he was a wild party boy, some fancy lawyer who got laid every night he’d open up for her. This was now though, years into the future when he hadn’t fucked anyone in so long besides her.

Her finger was an intrusion that was met with a soft grunt. He didn’t turn around though, didn’t reprimand her or tell her to stop. That was a good sign at least.

One finger quickly turned into two. Lube coating her fingers and making him slick. She wasn’t sure if that was enough, but she knows John and figured he was the kind of man who didn’t mind a little pain mixed in with all the pleasure. That’s why, with a parting spank to his ass, she thrusted in.

And by the harsh cry he let out it was the last thing he was expecting. “Rook—“

“Do you want me to stop?” Though she could tell what his answer would be when she pulled out and pushed back in shallowly. His back rolled into her. No, he was enjoying this too much.

“God no. Keep going.” His head tipped to the side. Giving her a perfect view of his facial expressions. “Fuck, so perfect.” His arm reached back to touch her thigh. Rubbing back and forth reverently. A smile hanging on his lips with each shove into him.

It went on like that for too long. With slow thrusts keeping him on edge but not letting him reach the orgasm he was desperately chasing as he rutted his hips into the blankets.

“What’s wrong Johnny?” Rook reached up, pushing down over his back and ruffling his hair. Earning a low growl in his throat full of hostility aimed at her. “You can’t cum like this?”

“Darling, please.”

She laughed. Feeling a stab of guilt at how a look of pain crossed over his face. Tears gathering at the corners of his eyes for how needy he was. “You beg so pretty for me.” She sighed thoughtfully, kissing the back of his neck. “Get on your back for me, legs spread.” She pulled out. Immediately grabbing the thick dildo attached to her hips and pushed back into John.

His eyes were blown wide. Arms reaching out to grab her. Pulling her close so their lips could meet in this new position. “Can I cum?”

Rook didn’t bother hiding her surprise. Cupped his cheeks and gazed at him like it was the first time she’s ever seen him. This wasn’t the John she was used to, not to say she was adverse to it. It made heat pulse between her legs. “You’re asking permission John, really?” She whispered it in a soft voice as she grabbed his cock, lying heavy against his stomach. “Go ahead. Just for me.” She pressed their foreheads together.

Her strokes got rougher, hand twisting as she pulled up. Making him keen in the back of his throat and buck up into her. Rocking against the dildo jammed inside him.

John came across his chest. Thick white lines that cooled on his body almost immediately. He let her drive him into over stimulation. Work his cock until it was completely limp and he was writhing. Pushing at her shoulders to shake her off.

She flopped down next to him, kicking and squirming to take off the strap on, going to toss it across the room, probably to be forgotten about until a few weeks later when John needed to blow off some steam.

John’s hand shot out to grab her wrist. Shooting her a devilish grin when he stopped her from throwing the toy. “Ready for round two?”


	16. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Inexperienced Deputy falls hard for John

Gazing from afar was so very different from what she could have if she just swallowed this stupid irrational mixture of fear and insecurities that kept her from even thinking about John.

He captured her attention and stole her breath away. It wasn’t just his looks, it helped, but it was something else. Something in his eyes that held her captive. She was fucking terrified of him getting his hands on her, one look from him and she’d say yes as many times as he wanted her to.

Her cheeks flushed at the way her thoughts strayed in a more lustful direction. Not that they were full raging fantaisies that would make his head spin if she ever worked up the courage to say something, to confess her feelings. She’s never gone that far with anyone, kept to her thoughts and those alone. Coming to Hope county and she’d think these intrusive thoughts of wanting to jump onto some man would have been buried. Yet there she was. Cheeks turning a dark pink as the van she was in tumbled along, dragging her along to get baptized.

Rook’s heart was pounding a fast rhythm. Lurching out of her chest and making her suck in gulping air in the confined space. Praying to whatever God may be out there that being close to him wouldn’t set her mind on edge. Wouldn’t make this stupid school girl crush worse than it already was.

She wasn’t that lucky. Never was, never would be. She just felt her cheeks heat up when she was near John, as he leaned in close and said with such conviction that he would make her confess all her wrongdoings. “No matter how small. No matter how petty.” Having to spend the next few hours alone with him, bound to a chair wasn’t seeming too fun. Not if he truly meant what he said.

The topic of lust was going to come up at some point. And if she wanted him to know she wasn’t guilty of that sin then the only way to secure her innocence would be swallowing her fears and telling him straight up that she’s had no experience.

Her face was pale, eyes clenched shut as she was tied up tight by one of John’s men. He gave her a jarring slap on the back as he finished. Strolling out the large door whistling some Peggie tune she couldn’t place with how frazzled her mind was.

A small whine came from her lips. How the fuck was she supposed to lie? How was she supposed to hide her crush on the baptist with how endearing he was? She was fighting a losing battle. Throwing in the towel wasn’t something she was fond of.

Her eyes snapped up at the sound of footsteps. Quickly moving down and tracing the cracked cement as she listened to his position in the room. Over to her right at the wooden workbench. She could feel his gaze on him when he finally settled. Tapping his foot rhythmically on the ground before sighing dramatically. Heaving his chest and placing the palm of his hand over his sloth tattoo.

“Deputy, let be the first to tell you that you truly put up a fight. You ran circles around me. Always avoiding me, just barely there. Sticking to the shadows.” He laughed. Drawing her gaze upward as he took calculated steps towards her. “Guess that ends now.” He smiled at her, looking truly triumphant and making her stomach flip.

“You don’t look scared.” John crouched down in front of her, hands running down either side of her neck and squeezing at the base. “No, you look apprehensive.”

“You cut into people’s skin. I’ve got a reason to be nervous.”

He didn’t look convinced. Not like she was lying though. She had so many other reasons to be anxious around him.

“I don’t know, what’s on your mind. What are you afraid of me hearing?” He wrapped a tattooed hand around the back of her neck, drawing them near and pushing their foreheads together. “Confessions are private. No one will no the secrets you harbor.”

He was trying for a calm, caring tone that you’d expect from a priest during confession in a normal non cult church. Joseph told him to love them, and of course that ideology had to kick in when she showed up. Making her mind swirl around his words and lean into the warmth of his skin. If she wanted to she could pretend he actually cared. That an experienced man like himself—because people talk and she knew of his past—would want someone who’s still a virgin. Who couldn’t please him as well as he could please her.

“What are you thinking about?” He had drawn back slightly. Thumbs digging into her cheeks. One hand mapping out her face. Drawing over the bridge of her nose, over her eyebrow, forcing her to close a lid as he applied a soft amount of pressure that made her gasp.

“Dep. Answer me. What have you done wrong? What sin is at the front of your mind, now I have my hunches, but I need to hear you say it.” John went to stand. Moving across the room to yank a chair in front of her. Leaning back and crossing his legs. Waiting patiently. “Understand?”

“Yes.” She nodded too fast. Jerking her head like a bird. “But what if I don’t know my sin? Can’t you just throw an idea out there?” That’d be the safest option. It’d let her latch onto whatever he said and put it up in front of her as some form of protection against what was really there.

“Hm.” He huffed, deflating slightly. “Sure. I’ll play your game.” John mused, seeming deep in thought for half a second before declaring, with way too much enthusiasm—“Wrath. It drive you. Determines your every action until it’s all you can think about.”

“Yeah, sounds right.” There was a rigidness beneath his beard. A vein jumping out on his forehead as he considered her. She was probably lying, but disappointing Joseph wasn’t an option. He could sit here and tattoo her, risk getting it wrong. Or he could spend weeks trying to pry it out of her and he still might fail.

She had him pinned between a rock and a hard place and she wasn’t even aware of it.

“Fine. Fuck it.” He stood abruptly. Dumping his supplies out on a metal table by her side. “But if I find out your lying…” the threat was there. He didn’t need to finish that sentence. It was enough to set her heart racing. He did this day in, day out, sooner or later she’d give something away to set him off. To make alarm bells ring in his head.

The pain was of the tattoo etching in her skin was secondary to what was running in her mind. And John had to know. He had to. With the way he was shooting her glances with this look on his face that made her squirm. Fucking hell talk about bedroom eyes.

“Something wrong Deputy?” John pulled away. Scrubbing over the finished mark with a wet sponge. Collapsing against the chair he had discarded before he set to work. Suddenly he looked too interested. Leaning on his knees, hand holding his chin up. Eyebrows raised and corners of his lips raised.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Wondering why she managed to turn into a nervous young girl around him.

“Dep.” He was closer, hand bracing itself on her shoulder, inquisitive gaze cutting into her. “Did I get your tattoo wrong?” That made her eyes pop open, bugging wide with surprise.

“I—ah—“

“Because if I need to show you your sin, maybe put it on display,” his hand moved down to where he had ripped open her shirt, smoothing across the top of her breast. “I’ll let you experience this sin to see how badly you’re inflicted. If at all.”

The chair was shoved back, rolling across the floor as he hit the ground on his knees. Letting his hands rove further under her clothes.

“John!”

She flinched. Ears picking up on the static filled voice of the one man John seemed to be in constant fear of.

John’s face was pale. Eyes flickering around and slowly pulling away from her to look over his shoulder at a blinking camera. “Yes Joseph?” Whispered so softly she could barely hear.

“Do not let your sin get in the way of others confessions.”

“Yes, I...I know.”

“Do not force your sins into others, it isn’t theirs to carry. It’s isn’t theirs to deal with.”

“Yes Joseph.”

There was an almost inaudible click of the camera’s audio cutting out. Looks like he was done getting reprimanded. And now she was stuck in a locked room with him.

“Guess wrath will have to do won’t it?” He sounded as salty as she felt. Nose scrunching up in displeasure. And she wasn’t about to give him a reason to tattoo her, not when what he was offering had now been pulled from the table.

John stood, sighing as he grabbed her chair, getting ready to roll her away into a smaller cell. He leaned in close, playing off the fact that he was checking her restraints. “Now don’t look so somber. Maybe next week.”


	17. Bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Instead of waking up after the bombs drop and being met with Joseph, Rook finds herself staring up at John.

Waking up to it all, after the fire and the absolute devastation of the world, she hoped it would be a gradual thing. Like waking up after a long nap. Something outside your window would stir you and soon you’d be surrounded by a symphony of birds and the rushing noise of cars zipping by. It took her a few moments to realize the bright light coming from behind her lids wasn’t from the soft glowing sun coming over the horizon.

It was the end of the world.

Rook was disoriented. Not sure where she was or how she was being moved...downward? Into somewhere much cooler and less dangerous than the fiery scene she could barely make out as she descended. Being dragged, ankles catching on the stairs and making awful bruises on her skin.

“Fucking hell. He was right, why couldn’t you listen? Guess it serves you right Rook, thinking he was crazy.” A sharp laugh echoed in her ears. “Joseph was right.”

The voice was tight. Strained from hauling her around. And that’s when she finally registered hands under her armpits. Letting her flop down onto the floor so her savior could run to slam the bunker door shut.

Her eyes couldn’t be held open for long. They quickly slipped shut just as she heard him spew another litany of curse words that burned her ears worse than the bombs did.

That’s where she was now. Coming back to the land of the living. Piecing back the events of what led her to be handcuffed to a metal bed post like a criminal.

She tugged once. Twice. Let her legs kick roughly against the cement floor before realizing who was at her feet and how they dodged out of the way just in time to avoid getting kicked in the face. “Careful dep. I still have time to throw you outside.” John tipped his head to the side, yanking off her charred, ruined boots as she was taking in his words. Shaking her head to get rid of the ringing in her ears. “Do you hear that?” He looked awestruck. Listening intently to the chaos raging above them.

“This is what he was preparing for. We spent years making sure we’d survive the collapse.” He laughed dully. Plopping back on his rear. Head hanging between his knees, hands threading through his ruffled hair. Disheveled and dirty. Much like the rest of his clothes and a large portion of his skin. “And I get to spend seven years with you instead of with my family. My flock. The fuck was God thinking?!” He roared it out. Suddenly standing. Shucking off his jacket. Taking his key with it. Stomping it down under his shoes as he paced back and forth.

“Is this my punishment?” John dropped down to grab her face. Dragging it towards him so they were gazing into each other’s eyes.

“John...I—“

“No. You shut up and listen to me Rook.” She squinted. Swear she could see tears forming in his baby blue eyes. Usually so bright, now looking somber, dimmed down. “I haven’t let go of all my sins. I have been wrathful instead of loving and—“ a sob cut off his words. “And now God is punishing me by leaving me with the sinner who tried to take my life and that of my family.”

Ah. She had tried that didn’t she? Had thrown him over her shoulder and hefted him up a hill before throwing him onto the dirty ground with a puff of air leaving his lungs. She had taken him down out of the sky. Fair and square; she won that fight.

Had grasped the key around his neck in a tight grip and was staring down at a dead man. Turns out he wasn’t really on the verge of giving out like she thought. Had enough strength to have hauled her ass to whatever bunker this was.

Once the bombs went off, right before she could claim what was hers, he had taken her down to the ground. Made her see the mud and inhale the gravel that surrounded her. She thought she died. Had hoped for it even.

Now look where she was. Fully aware that all the Seeds were probably alive and well. Coming to the realization that she was stuck with some manic man who believed this was a part of some divine plan.

“Sorry?” Rook winced at she said it. Cringed when he chuckled in their shared space. Still too close together. Noses almost brushing. Beard tickling her cheek.

“No. No don’t apologize. This is a learning experience for you just as it is for me. This was meant to be.” He brushed her hair away from her face. Let his hands wander across her jaw. Stroking in a soft touch that was too gentle for John. “We have to learn from this Deputy. We must make the most of this situation, don’t you see we were given a second chance!”

John stood again. Pulling a key out of his pocket and dropping back down to undo her cuffs. She saw the knife that he had under his shirt. In the waistline of his pants. He was just crazy enough to stab the shit out of her. No way was she trying that. Not when her head was still pounding out the rhythm of the Earth screaming above them.

“This is just an unfortunate situation, not a second chance.” She gave a cautious mocking smile over to where he was crouched a few feet away. “Don’t be like Joseph. Stop reading too much into this.” She retracted her hands before John could grab hold on them. Tried to make herself as small as possible even when John shoved her knees apart and slotted himself in between. Holding onto her shoulders and nuzzling beneath her chin.

Not at all caring at how she stiffened. “See? I can do this.” Rook held her breath. Almost thought he was talking to her. “I can show you that I am capable of loving. That I don’t have to be full of wrath and hatred. I can make amends and love this woman who you’ve placed before me.” John whispered soft thanks against her skin. Kissing her collarbone and tugging her shirt down just enough to see her tattoo. Licking over it.

“This is a team effort dep. love me and I’ll love you. That’s the only way to find salvation, the only way we will be accepted into Eden’s Gate at the end of seven years.” He smiled wide and pulled away to meet her gaze. “Why don’t we start.”

“Start? John...I—I don’t…”

“Let me show you dear. Let me guide you.”

He kissed her fully on the lips. “We can start like this and by the end emerge people no longer with thoughts of pain and hate.” Another kiss. No bites or rough holds. “Just follow my lead.”


	18. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Rook begrudgingly rescues John as he acts petty and like a brat the entire time

John wasn’t supposed to be there. Simple as that. Him and his damn armada wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this area of Holland Valley.

That’s the thought that flashed through her mind in a blaring red alarm as she saw him trip and stumble and suddenly disappear over a rocky ledge. Jumping out of the way of her—to be fair— way too fast ATV. She veered the car, unwilling to believe that John was smart enough to dodge the hunk of metal that flung around a tight corner.

The ATV flipped over and over. Ejecting her from the seat and sending her over the same ledge as John had catapulted down into. She, like a smart survivalist, had come prepared for her trek into Mother Nature. Fully equipped with body armor. Enough of it that it took the brunt of the impact, along with the grappling hook that she had only ever used to reach prepper stashes. Now she was using it like some hero straight out of a Batman comic.

Mid air tossing it up to cling to the lip of the cliff. Sprinkling rocks down into her eyes and mouth.

“Hey! Watch it Deputy!”

Oh for fucks sake…

Rook made a move to start climbing up. Felt absolutely zero guilt at leaving him behind. Someone would find John eventually. She doubted Eden’s Gate would be able to last without their herald for long. They’d send out a search party and she’d pay for it in idle threats in a few hours.

“Oh no you don’t.” Her leg was grabbed in a tight hold. Jerking her further down. “Don’t you dare leave me. Not after you got me in this mess.”

He had a point. Fairness didn’t mean she had to overlook all that he’s done to her though. Her wrath tattoo began to throb as a painful reminder as why it was okay to leave him.

There was another sharp tug to her ankle. Sending a second spray of rocks down on them. She felt her bright blue rope shake more drastically than she was comfortable with. “If I don’t get out of here then neither do you.” His voice was thick with anger. Fingers leaving bruises on her skin.

“Really John?”

“Try me.”

With an exasperated sigh she looked down, eyes widened at the position he was in. Seeming to have the expression of a small, lost puppy with his leg jammed between a small crevice. Arm twisted at an odd angle. She was surprised the pain he must’ve been in hadn’t knocked him out.

“You’re serious.”

“So fucking serious.” A gentle pull that dragged her down towards him.

“Fuck. Just—“ she reigned in her anger. “Just stop.” To her surprise he did loosen his hold. Kept it there as a constant presence as she made her way down to him until he could reach up with wandering grabby hands to cling to her hips.

Rook went fast. Moved quickly as she went up. Earning her a yelp from John and a light smack to her ass.

“Do you want me to leave you?”

He simply scowled at her when she caught his eyes again. “Go. Slower.” She blinked at him. “It hurts. I fell, no thanks to you, and it hurts a lot.” He was pouting. Crazy, insane John Seed of Holland Valley was jutting his bottom lip out at her as if that would tug at her heartstrings.

To avoid him spanking her again as if she was an unruly child, she went much slower. Pausing each time he whined or pressed his forehead into the small of her back. When his leg popped free between the two large rocks she earned another cry, “God...wait! wait!”

“What now?” She groaned. Head tipping back with an annoyed grunt.

“Let me just..” there was the sound of him whimpering between clenched teeth as he moved to lift himself up her slim body. He was climbing up her torso, wrapping his legs around her waist, limp one hanging like dead weight. Putting an arm around her neck and cutting off her air supply with how his other arm proved useless. “Kay.”

“Alright, what now your majesty?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’? Go! Get us out.”

“You sure?” She coughed. Straining to bring in small trickles of air. “Comfortable back there? Need a blanket? Maybe some sparkling cider? How about—did you just snarl at me?”

Her question was met with a sharp nip to the soft spot of her neck. Drawing blood that he lapped up. Smiling with reddened teeth when she had no choice but to move upward. She couldn’t stay in mid air. Not when the rope was already struggling to haul them up onto stable ground.

Getting onto the earth was so much more difficult with John clinging to her like a koala bear. Insisting that he be brought up first. “I’m injured!” Like that meant anything. He was still dangerous. Capable of taking care of himself. She acquiesced though. Tossed him up and onto his back with a grunt coming from both of them.

His chest was heaving by the time she stood over him. Coiling rope around her hand and connecting it back to her belt.

“What? Did almost dying tiring you out?”

“That wrath is never ending. Even when helping your fellow man, watching him wallow in pain, you can’t find kindness in your heart. Maybe you’re not salvageable. Joseph won’t be pleased.” He squinted up at her. Putting an arm over his eyes to block out the weaning sunlight.

“Stop complaining. This is as nice as it’ll get so long as you’re acting like an asshole.” She grabbed him, tugging him into a standing position with his arm around her neck.

“I can’t walk.”

“You have to. We gotta get to Dutch’s bunker.”

He frowned. Mumbling a soft ‘who?’ No wonder that old man survived so long. Kept to himself so much so that John didn’t even recognize the name.

“You’re taking me back to my ranch.” Sounding more like a demand than a suggestion.

“Nope. Not when I’ve been given a chance like this. And not when you’ve been so damn rude.”

*****

Living with John, in such close quarters, it was driving her crazy. Making her wish she had just let him pull her down into a rocky death with him. It would’ve been so much sweeter, a beautiful embrace that she would have accepted if it meant she didn’t have to deal with him each night.

Dutch was done with her shit by now. Sectioning her off to one of the tightly locked rooms in the back, not allowing her to leave when she was the one who brought their little guest. It was fair, but that didn’t stop her from sulking at John’s attitude. He was infuriating.

John practically twisted her arm behind her, even though he had absolutely zero leverage. Not that he acted that way. The first night was the worst. A constant stream of complaints.

“It hurts.”

“You can’t just leave me!”

“Please, have mercy.” That was one of his favorite things to say. As if she hadn’t shown him mercy when rescuing him from that rockside death.

She ended up spoon feeding him. Shoving soup between his lips when he refused to use his left hand to eat seeing as the other was useless, ‘That’s my non dominant hand.’ Later on she was the one to wrestle his clothes off, she’d give that to him. He broke an arm and leg, it’s not like he could stand and get into a less dirty and torn outfit. What she didn’t appreciated was how he was practically falling asleep against her. Head resting on her hip and whining in annoyance when she made him hold up his head like a normal grown man.

“I’m tired dep.” Rook had fluffed his pillows with an exaggerated motions and tucked him in, roughly yanking the blankets over his chin.

“Stay?”

“John.” She had pinched the bridge of her nose. In her mind she had figured the rest of the night she could spend it with someone who didn’t drive her up the wall. Dutch and her could at least talk about what to do with John.

“Please Deputy.” He sounded exhausted, “I’m only asking a small favor. Just stay.”

Just staying ended up being more than sitting on a chair by his bed. When the lights went off, drowning them in darkness, he had reached out to hold onto her knee tightly. Nails digging in and urging her to lie with him. To keep his broken limbs propped up and to ease some pain aching in his body.

When he finally did nod off she tried to not care. To pretend his chin resting on her chest didn’t stir something in her that made her rather save him then put a bullet between his eyes. It wasn’t right, not when she could sense his fear as they walked to Dutch’s island and made their way down. He was terrified. Picking words out carefully despite pushing her buttons. So scared of death, wanting to live to see his family again. She wasn’t about to be a monster and rob him of that when his eyes reflected how scared he was. That’s why she put up with his bullshit, reminding herself that he was just a man. That she had no right to take his life because he was annoying.

It got real easy a few weeks later to make friends with John. To laugh at his teasing ways and pretend the way they came into this mess wasn’t from her almost killing him.

She had joked about that one day.

“That’s how we become friends you know? So fucking strange. A story to remember.” She shoved noodles into his waiting mouth. Sighing contentedly.

“Yeah.” He gave her his signature grin. Leaning back against the pillows. “Definitely something to tell our kids huh dep?”

Rook sputtered and coughed up her share of the crappy noodles she had taken a bite of. Taking every ounce of willpower to not slap John as he struggled for air, booming laugher.


	19. Kidnap (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: John proves Rook’s friends right by showing just how obsessive he is

Little known fact: John had his ways of getting answers. Of knowing exactly what was happening in his region. He had tabs on every person who set foot into Holland Valley. That included his beloved deputy.

The same deputy who spoke of lust so freely. He couldn’t see her face from the small CB radio he set up to listen in on her conversations, but he could hear the denial clear in her voice. If he closed his eyes John could see how her cheeks would pinken with a flustered noise coming out of perfectly parted lips.

It was her friends who planted that idea in her head. John had practically fell to the floor the first time he heard someone tell her that The Baptist had a hard on for her. That she could end this damn holy war if she just hopped into bed with him. That she’d be doing them all a favor. Each time it was brought up, which was way too many to be normal, John would close his eyes and bite down on his knuckles, sending prayers into the silent room around him that she’d stop being so damn stubborn.

_Just listen, listen to your sinful friends. What the fuck do I need to do to make you understand?_

Ripping her shirt wide open to expose her lacy bra and letting her breasts spill out towards him was supposed to get the message across. Watching her so openly a moment later and go painstakingly slow to wash her chest in preparation for her tattoo was meant to get it through her head.

It didn’t.

Him leaning forward with only a thin layer of plexiglas separating them just before she ran out, he made it known then too. Kept his eyes dipping down to try to make her see it was more than a morbid curiosity. That given the chance he would’ve torn her shirt off fully and taken advantage. Her wrath blinded her to his small gestures.

She was oblivious. That was fine. Like everyone knew: John had his ways.

_*****_

Each time John chased after her, sent his damn cronies her way, she had always been given a heads up. Whether from the man himself or Dutch. It seemed only fair considering the bliss bullets all the heralds were too fond of, which at a moment’s notice left her debilitated.

This time around she figured John had gotten sick of her antics and sprung an attack on her like a child. This was war and didn’t at all mean he had to play fair, but what kind of fun was it if he didn’t level the playing field?

Rook didn’t let herself go down easy. He wanted to be an asshole, fine. He’d have to pay in blood though. Give him one more thing to be scared to tell Joseph about.

When she did wake up, still hazy on the bliss and trying to figure out which way was up and which way was down, she found her limbs bound together by a soft silky material. A wad of cloth was shoved between her lips. Making her mouth unnaturally dry which in turn had her hacking and coughing behind the cotten.

“Careful dep.” With wild eyes trying to track John, she squirmed away from one of his hands that managed to run across her jaw. Ending at her mouth, he forcefully ripped the cloth away. Letting it flutter to the cement floor.

And that’s about when she realized where she was. Down underground, his bunker no doubt, and on a bed. A bare mattress devoid of blankets and pillows. Her legs, strangely enough, were not connected to the bedposts, they weren’t even tied together. Someone was confident.

He crouched down beside her, holding up a radio to his lips. She could see the hint of a smile on his face as he addressed her friends. Using full names and asking to not be interrupted, like this was some legal business transaction she signed up for.

“It has come to my attention that you sinners have taken fondly to pointing out the,” he paused, ephasing it was a sigh as he leaned in closer to her. Close enough that she could count the colors in his eyes, “affinity I have for Rook. And my god.” He laughed, loud and clear in such a confined space. “They aren’t the holiest of conversations to listen in on.”

He twirled a strand of her hair around a single digit. Smiling wide now. Running his eyes down the length of her body as he stood at his full height. “Though I’m sure you already know that.”

With one hand he very deliberately began popping the buttons on his vest, locking their eyes together as he took careful steps forward. “The way you all speak, almost as if this is a joke. Like I wouldn’t really accept such an offer is she came to me.”

He placed the radio down on the edge on the bed. Tossing off his vest and shirt. Letting them fall to the floor as he cupped her chin. “Let’s get started.”

Rook tried to keep her voice down. Didn’t want to give the asshole satisfaction of having her moan for him and definitely didn’t want her friends to think she was enjoying what he was doing to her.

When he had stripped himself down to just his boxers—and that settled at least one debate she had with Addie—and positioned himself behind her, subtly grinding, she bit hard into her lip. Letting out light sighs each time he nipped at her neck. Painfully aware of the radio precariously tottering on the edge of the mattress. Letting all her friends know exactly what he was doing. What he planned on doing later tonight when the radio clicked off.

John tugged himself out, rubbing his leaking cock head against her folds. His hand was pressed onto the side of her head, propping her ass up into the air.

He brought down a heavy hand on her ass. Laughing as she squealed. “Doesn’t she sound just beautiful? I almost find it hard to believe that she’s a sinner with how pretty she whines.” To accentuate his point he shoved a single finger inside her. Watching her wiggle her hips and whimper as if that would dissuade him.

“Hush now Deputy.” He stroked her hair away from her face, grabbing into her jaw so their eyes were forced to lock. “Take a deep breath—“ and that was all the warning she got before he was pushing into her. Groaning loudly and smiling as she clenched around him.

John’s pace was slow. A slight roll of his hips, barely pulling out before jamming his cock back in. Making his hands wander over her body as he hummed under his breath.

“This is just a warm up dear.” Mumbled so her and the people on the other side of the radio could hear. “Later tonight I plan on doing much more. Until you’re begging for me. Until all you can think about is me.” His hand snaked under her to grope at her breast. Moaning appreciatively. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you say yes.”


	20. Tattoo Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: Married life with the youngest Seed seems to have its differences than normal relationships as he doesn't waste any time marking what is his

John was a rich man, that was evident from whenever you first laid your eyes on the youngest Seed sibling. He had money, liked showy things. Bordering on greedy and materialistic. Maybe even pride.

That’s why, when John had first proposed to give her a tattoo in place for a ring, she had almost laughed. John enjoyed expensive things. So why not have him flaunt what he could give her, only the best, and show off some more?

Turns out John also liked marking things. Claiming them as his own. You see, as he had told her, crouching by her side and stroking her hand like a loving husband should, “A ring can be taken off. It can be tarnished and worn from time. But a tattoo,” He breathed out a long-held sigh. Humming thoughtfully as he sat down next to her on the couch. Brushing back her hair and leaning in closer. “A tattoo is forever. Never to be ruined. It will sanctify our marriage forever. Never to be broken.” The smile he gave her after made her shudder. He had fucking lost it...

And she said yes.

When he spoke like that it scared her. Made her question who he really was. It showed her a side of him that was petrified of loss, who had abandonment issues well into adulthood. She said yes because he had that look in his eyes he got when he was begging her to stay through subtle motions and words hidden behind the teaching of Eden’s Gate.

Rook sat still through the whole thing. Sat there and took the insistent stinging pain on her ring finger as he etched into her skin with an intricate pattern that was more than a simple wedding band. Tiny minute details that he whispered their meaning to her as he went. Tossing her hesitant smiles every now and then, a check for validation she picked up on early into their relationship.

By the time he moved onto what was meant to take place of the gemstone, her finger was a vibrant red. Screaming out for mercy with how he had been going at it nonstop for almost an hour.

His persistence was endearing.

Made her pet over his locks and brush across his eyebrows as he formed the Eden’s Gate starburst symbol in the middle of the wedding band. Finally looking confident. A gleam of pure bliss exploding in his eyes as he finished with a flick of his wrist. Muscles going lax.

John stood. Rubbing at his jaw as he took a couple steps back. Swinging his arms and laughing softly as he gave her a once over where she sat.

“Perfect.”


	21. m!Rook What They Don’t Know...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: m!deputy and John fluff

Rook snuggled further into the blankets. Pointedly ignoring how John huffed in annoyance.

“Stay still.”

His lips curved upward in the darkness. Squinting, he could make out the sharp angle of John’s jaw beneath his beard, and of course, the frown painted there.

“What? Just trying to sleep.” He was sure John could hear the shit eating grin in his voice.

“Sleeping implies not moving.”

Rook shifted again, this time around pressing his cold feet into John’s calves.

“For fucks sake!” John went rigid, moving to push himself up. Already throwing the mountain of blankets off him.

When he heard the dull thud of John’s feet hitting the floor he jolted forward. Leaning across the bed and battling with the blankets to get to him. Rook wrapped an arm across his waist to tug him backward. “Hey. Hey, c’mon John—“

“No.” John did stop. Planting his ass back down on the bed. Making Rook fall towards him. Cheek pushing into the middle of his bare back. Warm, heat radiating off him. Raised skin from the scars along his torso. “I invited you in my home because I couldn’t sleep. And you’re not exactly helping.”

“I know babe.” Rook moved to get on his knees. Easing John back into bed. Laying his hands flat on his chest, a worried crease in his brow making John’s face soften. “Sorry. Didn’t think you were in such a bad mood tonight.”

“I said I couldn’t sleep!” Raising his voice again. Hands moving animatedly to accentuate his point.

“So you’re cranky.”

“If you don’t like it then leave.” That made Rook flinch. Crawling to lie next to John. Pulling the man into his arms. Drawing his head against his chest, sighing softly as he carded fingers through John’s messed up hair. There was a note of insecurity in his voice. Still not used to being treated well by anyone beside his brothers. Going on the defensive too many times a day, high strung seemingly always. Making snarky comments and rude jabs that were meant to drive Rook away.

This was dangerous. John and him sneaking around behind the back of Eden’s Gate like they were. It was stupid and wasn’t helping John’s stress level in any way. Which in turn didn’t help Rook in trying to slam the point home that he wasn’t going anywhere.

So nights like this was more than welcoming. Getting a late night call from John’s phone—not a radio, his actual phone—asking with a shaking voice for him to stay the night.

“I’m not leaving you.” Something he’s said so many times before that it was starting to become a reflex. He’d be surprised John didn’t ask him to stop if he didn’t know the man’s tainted past.

The need for constant validation, for nights like this with them lying together, was something essential for John. Just as eating and drinking were.

“Johnny?”

“Hm.” Little more than a grunt as he shifted to press his head into the crook of Rook’s neck.

“You heard me? I’m not leaving you. I’m  
staying right here.”

There was the soft, wet press of lips against his neck. Trailing up and down. “I know.” John mumbled. Sounding tired and subdued for once. Like something had finally knocked into his head that Rook was telling the truth. Resigning himself that he’d just have to accept the love that was being shoved down his throat.

“Now sleep. Busy day tomorrow.” He wasn’t sure if it was, but being the sole baptist of the county must have its downfalls with being needed 24/7.

John grunted, stretching his body, skin catching off the moonlight, illuminating him beautifully as he leaned up to kiss Rook properly. Something sweeter that Rook was usually the one to instigate. Not the other way around.

“I’m lucky to have you.” Rook laughed, he really wasn’t. If John only knew the onslaught of problems that seemed to trail behind him like crashing waves that he couldn’t run away from. Rook had half the mind to confess to John all his fears. That Joseph was right about him, about hell following him. John was the unluckiest man in Hope County so long as he was with Rook. But ruining that soft smile that appeared a moment later on John’s face when he pulled away, he couldn’t destroy that. It’d be a sin.

Instead he pulled him closer. Singing under his some tune he could only remember a few lines of. Drawing circles on the man’s skin in a form of comfort until John went limp in his arms.


	22. His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request:
> 
> “You brought me a family. Something that I’ve been told I’m lacking, a loving caring unit. This is a gift from God and I would be a fool to let it slip from my fingers.” His hand moved to cradle her cheek, rubbing up her jaw and fisting her hair. Yanking back to expose her neck, allowing him to press light kisses on her skin. Pausing to push his lips on her pulse. Smiling when he felt it move rapidly. “You’re staying right here. You’ll raise our child and you’ll adore this family.

Rook was leaning forward, remote clutched in a firm grip. A failsafe. A net to catch her if her mind went too far gone when John's face appeared on screen. Looking all in the world like a normal man. As if he didn't have a life built around her once upon a time.

Her heart was moving sporadically just thinking about him. Seeing him on the tv was surreal. Brought it all back. To him, she was probably just a distant memory. Lucky bastard didn't have to put his life on hold for a kid. Didn't have to give up his career as a successful lawyer when she did. Threw away those aspirations and switched job descriptions. Not her dream job in a long shot. But it kept her from starving. Got her this roof over her head in some desolate corner of Hope County Montana. In a little nook of Holland Valley.

She was so close to him. That she knew, word spreads fast. She knew where he lived, unsurprisingly much better than she had ever hoped of. She knew the title he had, the reputation he had earned himself after he ran out on her. Truth be told it wasn't completely his fault. That didn't stop her from getting angry. There was still unbridled rage sitting below the surface. Crackling like a dying fire waiting to be reignited by the slowest gust of air. Oh and this was it. Sitting from her cozy spot on her beat up couch, watching John Seed, formerly John Duncan to her. And her kid if she ever worked up the courage to tell her daughter about this man who she has heard only bad things about since she entered the damn place.

Suddenly this didn't seem like such a good idea. She knew her parents wouldn't approve of dragging her daughter out to some war zone. It's not like she meant to choose this place when she packed up and moved. More of a job relocation than anything else.

Rook was willing to do this though. She had to. To close this chapter in her life. To at least say things have been resolved, they left off disjointed with uncertainty lingering around them. Even if he didn’t remember her it’d at least make her rest easy at night.

Two hours later and she had packed her and her daughter in her beat up car. Knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Trying to focus on the lyrics of the song playing and sorting it out in her mind.

Since when did her baby daddy get famous enough to deem his own song?

“Someone’s paying child support huh Lily?” Rook tossed a glance behind her at her kid. Lips tipping up when she just nodded along with her mother.

Rook pushed down a little harder on the pedal. Already feeling a mixture of excitement and dread coursing through her.

She should've been paying close attention to the road. After what she's heard about Hope County and the dangers it elicits...she should’ve been on guard. Her ignorance resulted in swerving at the last second to avoid a roadblock consisting of white vans and men spread out along the perimeter.

The car tumbled off the road. Not flipping, but spinning round and round like a top until a pole forced them to stop.

Then nothing. Just darkness and a swarm of voices.

*****

Rook kept bouncing in and out of it. Unable to move, held down by something...or someone. She was too out of it to tell.

Only hearing the distant sound of voices and the slamming of too heavy doors that made her flinch.

When her vision did come back to her she drew back. Surprise flitting across her face at the men only inches from her. Leaning down at the waist to get close to her, hands holding onto her shoulders tight enough to bruise.

“Look whos finally awake.” Her mouth felt too dry to talk. “I’m so happy you decided to join me Rook.”

“J-John…”

“No. Shush.” He stood, pinching the bridge of his nose and walking away. Looking as if he was the one without the upper hand here. “I remember you.”

The shock of that statement had her swallow thickly. Stopping any words about to come to the surface. “Don’t necessarily remember the girl you had with you, but I can guess who she is. Who she belongs to.”

“If you fucking hurt her—“

“Hurt my child.” His hand raised to the center of his chest. Mouth hanging open. “Hurt my own flesh and blood. I’m not a monster.”

She’d beg to differ. She was tied up after all. He wasn’t radiating hospitality. “No? Then let me out. Let me just leave with Lily.”

“Oh darling.” He smiled, head tipping as he stalked forward. And just like that she was reminded why she fell for him. That he was a charmer in the best of ways. Making her knees weak with a single glance. Her head craned up to stare at him with wide eyes. Lips curving up at the glint in his eyes. “I’m not letting you leave.”

Just like that the fantasy was over. He was like a mirage. All charisma and fallacies built on lies until he opened up his mouth and he sent you running. But by that time you’re too far in to get up and go. He’s proving that perfectly well.

“You brought me a family. Something that I’ve been told I’m lacking, a loving caring unit. This is a gift from God and I would be a fool to let it slip from my fingers.” His hand moved to cradle her cheek, rubbing up her jaw and fisting her hair. Yanking back to expose her neck, allowing him to press light kisses on her skin. Pausing to push his lips on her pulse. Smiling when he felt it move rapidly. “You’re staying right here. You’ll raise our child and you’ll adore this family. You’ll accept me and my siblings just as you accept Lily.”

His lips captured hers. Growling into it when she didn’t cooperate. “It’s the will of The Father. Don’t deny your purpose.”


	23. Paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request:
> 
> “No!” John snapped, lips curling into a snarl. Hand tightening around their child’s arm, pulling her close to his side, making her stumble a few steps back. “You don’t trust me. You’re not watching out for me. Just making sure I’m not following in my daddy's footsteps right?”

His hand was tight on her upper arm, dragging and pulling. Not out of anger or a loss of temper, she was smiling. Looking up at him gleefully like he would solve all her problems, that he’d chase away the monsters that hid under her bed at night. He would never be the one to bruise her skin or scar her flesh. And yet his wife, his darling Rook had to ruin it. Again. She had to spark real anger in him when she rushed over with a hand on his chest to make him stop. Causing their daughter to smack into her thigh with a light laugh as she stared up at her mother. Unaware of the tension fizzling between them like a sparking wire.

“Don’t even say it Rook.”

“Just be careful.” She whispered those words. A flush spreading over her cheeks as her wrongness came into view. “I’m watching out for us--”

“No!” John snapped, lips curling into a snarl. Hand tightening around their child’s arm, pulling her close to his side, making her stumble a few steps back. “You don’t trust me. You’re not watching out for me. Just making sure I’m not following in my daddy's footsteps right?”

“You’re gonna hurt her.” Rook knelt on the ground to reach for their daughter but was stopped short by John gripping onto the front of her shirt. Yanking her close to him until their noses brushed.

“I. Am. A. Good. Father.” Each word followed by a sharp shake with the grip he had on the collar of her tee. “I get mad, but I would never.” As a show of good faith he let go of the girl he still had a strong hold onto. Giving her a gentle pat on the back to coax her forward into her mother’s arm. “We could be a happy family, normal. But you ruin that.”

“I’m not the problem here.”

“So naive.” John mused, coming across passive aggressive as his voice strained to dial down into a whisper between them. “I grew up in a house where my parents fought and yelled every single day,” he laughed bitterly, hand moving to encompass her neck, “among other things dear. And let me tell you how much I resented them for that. So when she grows up and sees how fucking insane you are, how you refuse to let me build a nurturing relationship,” another laugh as he blocked off her air supply, “Well you’ll come to regret these days.”

John’s eyes flicked down to their daughter, smiling when he didn’t see an ounce of fear in her eyes. More like confusion.

“You think I’m insane?” Rook asked, standing strong when his gaze turned rock hard as their eyes clicked. “You cut into people's skin, you destroy families, you kill. John, you should be in jail.” Rook’s hands danced over his own where they rested on her neck, tugging it away to grab hold of her shirt and pulled it down, showing off her wrath tattoo. “Gonna tear into your own kid’s skin one day? Call her a dirty sinner like you did to me? Cause when she finds out what you did to her mother,” This time it was her turn to laugh in his face as she took a step closer, “That’s the day your so called relationship with her ends.”

She knew she was poking the bear that laid beneath the surface of who John Seed really was. That doing this, in front of their daughter no less, was playing dirty. Trying her hardest to reveal to their kid, no older than four, that her dad was a man to be feared.

“You, and no one else is taking her from me. I’ll make my own damn family pay if they hurt her.” John threatened.

“Just hearing you say that.” Rook clicked her tongue, tipping her head down and sighing. “That right there is enough proof, it’s all I need to hear John. Because maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon you’ll fuck up bad. You’ll do something you can’t retract and she will run as far as she can. I hope she’ll make it, I pray each night beside you that she will see you for the monster you've always been.” She drew in a breath, stepped away, ignoring the sharp eyes of her child dancing between the two of them. Tears were in Rook’s eyes, everything inside her telling her to stop. Screaming at her to pull the brakes and just shut the hell up. That this was simply the anger making her speak this nonsense, but deep down she's always been afraid of what John might do with his anger issues now that he had someone to take it out on. One look inside his bunker would show you how much he loves his victims helpless. And who more helpless than a child?

“That’s not gonna happen.” John whined, throat constricting around his words. He fell down on his knees, landing with a thud and not even a wince. Bundling their daughter in his embrace. Pressing a kiss to her cheek and holding back tears. She knew what she did to him, that just by saying what she did, that her obvious paranoia was wearing on him. It was making him crumble. Planting a seed in his mind that would linger despite his best intentions. If she herself wasn't afraid of her husband and what he was capable of doing, she might feel bad leaving him on the floor to wallow in his fears.


	24. Love Them (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Request: John and dep after the collapse, and John’s philosophy on love is all sorts of fucked up
> 
> “This is truly our destiny isn’t it?” He reached out with both hands to grab her. Holding her jaw, thumbs pressing into her pulse. “You, me…” his eyes sparked something dangerous, “and seven years all to ourselves.”

“He told me that not loving people would be the death of me.” John laughed triumphantly. Gazing down at her from where she knelt on the floor with wrists bound in front of her. He threw his arms wide, a gesture reminding her too much of the brother he was speaking about.

“And yet here I am. Given a last chance from God. The same God who is willing to smite me if I don’t love you.” He fell to his knees to get to her level. Invading her space and filling her senses with the disguising scent of burnt ashes and mud that still clung to him.

“This is truly our destiny isn’t it?” He reached out with both hands to grab her. Holding her jaw, thumbs pressing into her pulse. “You, me…” his eyes sparked something dangerous, “and seven years all to ourselves.”

“You hit your head John?” She smiled at him, lips quivering, attempting to disguise her fear. He sounded fucking insane.

“Now that’s not so nice Deputy.” John chided. Squeezing his hands just enough to make her cough. “I’m extending my hand here, an olive branch as Joseph always said to me. That was before the collapse came and when you were a thorn in my side. You can’t say no, I gave you a choice and obviously,” A hand off her throat used to wave around the bunker, indicating to their current situation, “You chose wrong. That is why we are here. Now I’m making these decisions because some of us want our souls to be saved.”

He shuffled closer to her, pulling her near to him so she fit in the curve of his body, slotting between his knees, head forced down until all she could see was the column of his neck and his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “I’ll keep us safe.” It almost sounded comforting. If not for his palm running down her spine in constant strokes that made her tremble.

“I’ll do what needs to be done to survive.” His hand stopped at the nape of her neck, suddenly yanking her back so she could see the layers of crazy in his gaze and the soot that smeared across the slope of his nose.

In an instant he was on her. Lips pressing against her own, tongue invading her mouth and demanding entrance. She was too weak to refuse him. Too scared to say no with the mania that decorated his features. So she let John ravage her, allowed him to pull themselves together until he had pushed her onto her back and was cupping her head to keep her close. Showing her there was no escape. This time around no one could save her. She couldn’t do a damn thing but kiss him back and pray he wouldn’t slice up her skin.

“See? I’m not so bad.” He was panting when he pulled back. Normally slicked hair fluffed and hanging in his eyes, looking like some playboy model.

He dipped into the crevice of her neck. Trailing open mouth kisses until he reached the top of her breasts and could lay small bites along her exposed skin. “I can be a saint. The world has been cleansed and we cannot wait to catch up with it. We need to act now before it’s too late.” His slender fingers shifted to either side of her face, framing her cheeks and smiling wide. “Just lie there, relax and let me lay praise to you as I was meant to from the very beginning.”

John eased himself lower on her body, planting one last farewell kiss to her breast before moving to tug off her leggings. Rook kept her eyes firmly shut, breathing heavily as she felt him shove her legs open, knees bent so she was on display for him.

“There we are. So heavenly.” He ran his dirtied palms up and down her legs. Biting at her inner thighs and nuzzling into the area right above her mound. “Will you let me taste what you have to offer Rook? I see how slick you are for me.” He laughed, running a finger up her slit through her wet panties. “This is all coming to fruition. You can’t say no, not now.” Without an answer he pulled her pantied aside and lowered himself to her folds. Tongue darting out, reaching inside her and gathering her juices. The initial shock of his touch had her jolting and squirming. Hips wiggling side to side at the unwanted pleasure coursing through her. John’s hand pushed down on her stomach with a muffled order to stay a moment later.

Rook craned her neck to look over at him. Seeing the crown of his head and hearing the wet noises he wasn’t at all ashamed to be making. “So good.” He moaned the words, lips vibrating against her clit in a way that made her yelp.

John pulled away at her loud yell, catching her eyes before she dropped her head back down again. Noting how her fists were clenched in the material of her shirt from where they were tied up. “Do you want more?”

“Fuck off.” It was barely a whisper but he heard it nonetheless.

“Still you deny me.” He snapped, jumping up on his feet and wiping at his slick mouth, ignoring how her juices clung to his beard. “The world is literally ending around us, falling apart as we speak,” he waved his hands wide, gesturing to the sky and the harsh booms that still sounded. “You must be blind, stupid.” He was pacing, anger showing through each exaggerated movement. “Or are you scared?” He stopped mid stride. A look of consternation falling over his face. Clarity was shown in his eyes when he swiveled on towards her. Moving back, stalking like a predator to slip between her legs again.

Her knees were held in a firm grip as he shoved her legs apart. “I understand now.” His hands moved down until he reached her panties, he wasted no time tossing them off and making her present herself for him. “You’re afraid. That’s only natural with what’s happening. It must be quite the shock seeing as you never thought it was going to come true.” The entire time his eyes remained fixed to her cunt. Mapping out the area, the curly hairs that spread over her lips, the way her folds were partially open and spread, beautifully pink and awaiting a partner. Her clit stood out, poking out and large, begging for him to touch her like he had done minutes before.

“I can take that fear and show you how well I can treat you. By the end of the night you’ll see that you have no reason to be scared.” With a deep breath John plunged three fingers inside her. Letting out a light whistle, almost impressed. “You’re tighter than I thought.”

Her legs tried closing. Only to be met with his strong forearms keeping her spread. He paid no mind to her resistance. Simply ramped up the pace and moved his hand faster. Closing his eyes as he resting his cheek on her knee. Reveling in the sounds she was making. The tiny mewls that fell from plump lips and groans that rose from her throat.

“Good. Stop fighting. Let your body guide you, just accept this. I’m only trying to help.”

Rook whined, more from embarrassment than anything. She was feeling a ball of heat coil in her stomach. Tightening and threatening to snap. She wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted from her, he didn’t deserve it. Not after what he’s done to her. But she couldn’t deny how well he was working her over. That he was skilled with his mouth and his fingers.

John bent his head down. Tongue rolling across her clit as his fingers crooked up. Pushing into a spot that finally made the pressure snap and had her cumming for him.

The rush of wetness had her cringing as she whimpered an apology. It was a first for her and already her cheeks were heating up.

“Fuck!” John jumped back. Shaking his hand and sending a spray of her juices around their area. “Could’ve warned me dep.” John looked like he was on the verge of gagging as he stumbled over to the bed, wiping his wet hand on the blankets and sighing deeply. “Guess I was already dirty though.”

“That—“ she cleared her throat, eyes finding his when she looked up. “That’s never happened before.”

“No?” John let out a light chuckle, hands now held behind his back as he crossed the floor to reach her. Grabbing her under her arms and hoisting her to her feet. “I’m the first man who made you squirt? Well isn’t that something?” He held them close, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. “Look how excited your body is for me, to finally be with the man who God intended for you. You can’t deny this any longer Rook. Not after that display.”


	25. Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How old do I look then?” There was some underlying current of anxiety there that she picked up on. He must’ve heard it too in his own voice judging from the way he winced a moment later. Refusing to meet her eyes as she searched his face. Acting like she was really thinking about his question.
> 
> “Dunno. Maybe 40-ish.”
> 
> “Forty.” He deadpanned.

“What?”

John stood with his hip cocked, hand resting on his side while the other wielded a revolver as a teasing threat. The damn thing probably wasn’t even loaded.“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just curious is all. It’s come up quite a few times.” Rook’s body was too relaxed for this situation, she had just found some footing that canceled out the fact that she had been caught sneaking around in his home. She leaned back on her palms on his plush bed. Slinking down into the blankets as she looked at John from head to toe. Landing back on his annoyed expression.

“Do you speak about me often deputy?” He smiled saccharine sweet. It was fake as all hell, that was clear when he took a few steps forward and she could see the anger flashing in his eyes.

“You’re deflecting Johnny.” She stood easily, hopping to her feet and almost bumping chests with him. “Getting pretty defensive too for such a simple question. C’mon,” She leaned in close, tapping along his jaw. An action that had him grinding his teeth. “What do you have to hide?”

“I’m not hiding anything deputy. I’m an open book.”

“Right, and you’re 32 I bet.”

“I am!” He stomped his foot out against the hardened wooden floor of his bedroom.

“Mhm.” Rook hummed gently. Eyes shining as she nudged him out of the way with a laugh. He was absolutely amusing. Each action or word that came from his mouth never failed to make her ring with jubilance. “I would’ve thought law school would take a man a while to finish.”

“For fucks sake.” John pinched the bridge of his nose, moving his fingers to rub away at the headache that was pulsing a beat in his skull. “How old do I look then?” There was some underlying current of anxiety there that she picked up on. He must’ve heard it too in his own voice judging from the way he winced a moment later. Refusing to meet her eyes as she searched his face. Acting like she was really thinking about his question.

“Dunno. Maybe 40-ish.”

“Forty.” He deadpanned. Face falling scarily flat as he took in her answer. Nodding slowly and rubbing at his chin before he too sauntering steps towards her. Pushing her further into a corner that she couldn’t escape from. “I know you’re lying. This has gotta be some fucking joke. Did Jacob put you up to this?” He pointed an accusatory finger directly in her face.

“I haven’t spoken to Jacob since--”

He didn’t let her finish her sentence. Just slapped a heavy palm to the wall by the side of her head. Leaning in close to her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off of his body. “Do I really look that old?”

“Forty’s not old John, no shame in it.” She flashed her teeth, and apparently that was a step too far for him. It had him laughing low under his breath. Bracing both hands on either side of her as he leaned his head against her collarbone. He chuckled again, the slight tip of his lips quirking upward as his beard brushed along her skin. He was falling back into what was comfortable territory. Trying to get back on top after exposing suck weak skin to an enemy.

“Look at this.” Rook’s body locked up as she watched in shock horror as John scrambled to grab at the buttons of his vest. Tearing away at the material and moving on to his bright blue shirt.

“No, no, no. Nope.” She reached out to stop him. Grabbing his forearms and yanking them away from his shirt. “I’m good John, I believe you. I don’t need proof.”

“Apparently you do.” He seethed. Shaking her off easily and going back to the task at hand. Revealing more scarred skin and black inky tattoos. “You need something to tell your little resistance buddies to make all that fucking talk stop.” He stood in front of her, his shirt hanging off his elbows as he managed to shrug it off and onto the floor. His chest was heaving, fists clenched in childish anger.

“I swear to God if I hear any word, even the slightest talk about any...incorrect presumptions about my age Rook--”

“What? You’ll slice up my skin? Explain that to Joseph when I show up bleeding on his doorstep.”

John’s face twisted. Annoyance still radiating off him in waves. John nipped at his lower lip, keeping it in a tight grasp as he spoke through anger, “M’Kay, fine.” He blew out a deep breath. Huffing out air as his shoulders sagged. “Just let your group of sinners that you insist on hanging around know what you saw.” He was close enough to see the indecision in her eyes. The choices flickering around on her face as she mulled around what he said. “You fucking better.”

“And if they don’t believe me?” She threw a laugh in just to piss him off more. “I mean I’m still struggling to catch up to what you’re doing. And I’m actually here right now, fuck,” she shook her head, still smiling, “I wouldn’t believe me.”

“Take a picture.”

“Wait,” Rook’s eyes went wide. Scanning his face for anything other than the seriousness he was emanating.

“You heard me.” He spread his arms wide, as if presenting himself bare from the waist up in compliments to his older brother was normal for John. “Take a picture, I don’t look forty or forty-ish. I am 32.” He was in her face again. Inches from her as he spoke carefully.

“Fine. Your call John. Don’t say I didn’t tell you this was a bad idea. Cause it is.”

“Just do it. Stop stalling.”

The click of the camera was their way of goodbye before Rook slipped out of his window--the same way she came in--and made her break for the woods. Phone held tight in her hands because, everyone clear the way, she had precious cargo on it and she’d be damned if she couldn’t spread it like the plague. Word was gonna get out, if John wanted to act like a child and show off then who was she to deny him such an experience?

She was a people pleaser after all.


	26. Last Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Soulmate au with John

“You don’t understand. You don’t believe. You don’t care!”

The world was a cruel place. It was harsh and vindictive and would pick you up to take you on a rollercoaster ride that would leave you feeling bereft and unsatisfied more often than not.

Though that’s how it goes when you remain ignorant only to realize at the last second what could’ve been, what you could’ve had or the hardships that could’ve been avoided if only you _knew._

Because she was kneeling on the dirty ground, not caring much that mud was gathering on the palms of her hands or that John Seed was staring up at her like he was praying to God that she would drop dead. And suddenly it clicked. She knew before he did, she heard those words tumble out of his mouth and she wanted to interrupt, to clap a hand over his lips and tell him to just shut up.

As if that would make this all go away. Like at the end of the day John wouldn’t be bound to her, mind, body and soul.

Already she could feel the connection grow shaky as he struggled taking in the smallest of breaths. It wasn’t fair. Simple as that. The world slapped her in the face, told her ‘here he is! the man you've been yearning for since you were old enough to understand the concept of soulmates, and now you get to watch as your sins devour him whole and steal him away.’

“John…” There were tears in her eyes. Making her vision of him all the more blurry. She thought, in the very least, she’d have some relationship to her soulmate that wasn’t the bitter mess her and John had. But she knew his words; You don’t understand. You don’t believe. You don’t care!, she knew it for as long as she could remember. Seared into her skin, his last words. They didn’t spell out a happy ending, but she thought the beginning would mark a time for joy.

If she had known, if soulmarks didn’t operate the way they did, then she could’ve saved this shell of a man dying before her. All she had to remember her soulmate by was those gruesome memories he bestowed her with and the throbbing tattoo on her chest.

Rook leaned forward in the dirt. Relished in the way he was holding tight to her wrist, it may be out of anguish, a last fight to keep her away from the key around his throat, but she could pretend it was because he knew who she was to him. And with that heavy thought she didn’t need any more of a reason to slide her lips against his before she could question if it was right or not.

The man deserved it. After the hell she put him through and the life she so ruthlessly stole from him, he needed to understand. So she poured every ounce of adoration in that kiss. It lacked teeth and it made him go still. “I love you.” Her last words to him. As a young boy, him knowing his soulmates last words to him were a sentiment of endearment...neither one of them could’ve imagined this.

John gave a quick scoff, something he only threw up in the air between them to hide his imperceptible gasp. Yet he couldn’t cover up the way his pupils dilated from an awful mixture of surprise and pain all wrapped in one terrible force that struck her directly in her heart.

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

John fell back in the dirt as she gave a light tug on the key around his neck. She cradled that thing close. Clutched it to her chest and noticed how it was still warm from dangling in the V of his unbuttoned shirt. She picked up the radio on her belt and called for Joseph. She whispered the words that she now knew, revealed it to him and apologized endlessly for fate being so, so cruel.


	27. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fluff with John

She was panting, chest heaving from the exertion of wriggling around on the mattress and trying to shove the 5”10 man off of her.

John’s head was jammed in the crook of her neck. Breathing hotly across her skin and making her slick with sweat. He was cozied up against her, leg slung over her body to keep her rooted down where she lay.

“John.” Her arms came up from where they were wedged between their bodies to give a light shake. Hands braced on his shoulders and moving up to cup his cheeks a moment later. Tugging him away from her throat. Up close the way they were, with him seeming almost serene and blissfully unaware of the hard days work that was ahead, he was cute.

Brows not pinched for once and mouth hanging open slightly. All lax and heavy muscles weighing down on top of her. Almost completely bare save for the sinfully tight boxers he wore. The warmth he was exuding might’ve been reason enough to convince her to stay. As well as the cocoon of blankets he must’ve wrapped around the two of them in the middle of the night when she was fast asleep and he was battling insomnia. But unlike him, she had an early start each and every day.

It’s not like she hasn’t heard his complaints before. Phone calls came when he finally woke up just as the sun rose and he was all alone. Bleary words tripping over each other as he expressed his unhappiness mixed in with the constant bantering when she arrived home and he was more cranky than usual. Lately their days ended with them tucked safe in bed with him yanking her close and asking her to stay a little bit longer in the morning.

“At least until I wake up.” He’d frown in the darkness, pressing into her side much like he was now. “We could take a shower together, make some breakfast.” Speaking wistfully as he pressed chaste kisses to her lips. It was too domestic for John, yet he begged for it. Guess she should’ve seen it coming for him to take matters into his own hands.

“Johnny?”

The response she got when she dropped his head into the swell of her chest was him shuffling impossibly closer. That and the dreamy grin he had on, finally coming around and barely taking note of her protests.

“Mornin’ dep.” With slurred words she was sinking back into the bed, eyes slipping shut because out of every single quirk that John had, his hushed tone lagged from sleep was practically her weakness. Hearing him deviate from the original hardness that his person naturally brought to the table.

“Sleep well John?”

He laughed. Pulling back but not loosening the hold he had on her. “Guess so.” There was the tip of one side of his mouth. Lazy smile making heat curl low in her stomach as he peered over at her with wild hair and a gleam of apprehension in his eyes.

“I’ve got things to do today.” Mumbled under her breath after a pregnant pause that left her feeling uneasy.

“Do you now?” His cockiness was gone, zapped out of him and replaced by an unusual demure state she wasn’t sure what to do with.

“I do. And you know this.” There was a whine from him when she finished her sentence. The sound had her pulling him in for some form of a hug with limbs that were tangled below the blankets. His ankles were locked over hers, hip bone jutting out into the soft curve of her hip. “I love you.”

“Then stay.”

He pushed her into a corner and pressed a gun into the tender skin under her chin with just those two words.

“Don’t tell me you can’t. I know you can manage. You’re just making excuses.”

Rook sighed, pressing the side of her face into a pillow and feeling John sink back with her. Following her movements like she had already agreed. “Pray tell, who’s gonna stop me if I try to get up?”

“I like to believe I’m stronger than you dear.” As if to prove his point he wrapped his arms around her. Head now shoved in her rib cage with how she had been trying to subtly wiggle up on the bed into something close to a sitting position. “You’re not going. Not while I’m lucid enough to say anything about it.” She jumped when he pressed a kiss onto her stomach, shoving her shirt out of the way like he had the authority.

“You’re already falling back to sleep on top of me John.” She scoffed when he snarled out something incoherent. Lids slipping closed then open. “I’ll be gone in an hour.”

“Please don’t.” His words were almost lost in her skin with how close he was. But it was loud enough in the silence of the morning for her to catch it and feel the start of guilt lap at her.

She shut her eyes tight. Fists curling into the skin of his back, brushing over scars from so long ago and one that was too recent for her liking. “You owe me one.” Rook wormed her way back down on the bed. Cooing at him to calm his frazzled nerves when her movement had him tightening around her like a viper.

“Deal.”


	28. Not So Holy (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: John decides to make use of his brother's knack for conditioning people

John has seen first hand what Jacob was capable of doing. That his brother could take the strongest of people and make them heel. Tame their wild side and target their pent up wrath to a good cause. The cause their family has been driving towards for the better half of their lives. It was a righteous fight, but one that was cruel nonetheless. John had no problem voicing those opinions to the ones brought to him tied up like presents ready all for him. He dramatized things, sure, It worked like a charm though. Had those sinners ready to confess, spilling their secrets so long as they were kept away from the big bad wolf up north.

He has heard so many stories of what Jacob got up to, if he didn’t want to there’d be no reason to see the effects up close. He had never had a reason to with the way word spread so fast. Even if he knew a man or woman in his chair had their minds fried by Jacob, hacked into and so eager to become a weapon at just the sound of a song, he never exploited that.

It seemed immoral, to pull confession from people like that. When they weren’t in their right frame of mind. The bliss was meant to make people see, to show them the truth. Jacob’s songs...he disapproved almost as much as Joseph did.

Now though, well John might have to give Jacob a call. Send him a damn gift basket for the treat he unknowingly gave John.

“Deputy,” He smiled, all sharp teeth and rough angles as he took such careful steps towards her. “So glad you could make it.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice.” She kicked a stray pistol out of her way, not bothering to watch where it flew between the pews. “You kinda tied my hands. Threatened my friends. These people,” Rook gestured vaguely behind her, at the closed church doors where Falls End laid in wait. “They haven’t done a damn thing to you. At least nothing that you didn’t start.”

“Oh.” John pursed his lips, hands falling to rest on his hips, pushing back his coat in the process. An action that made Rook’s eyes drop to scan for weapons. Grunting in disbelief when her search came up empty because John Seed didn’t strike her as an unprepared man. “My apologies. But we both know that this could’ve been avoided. That the conflict between Eden’s Gate and Falls End wasn’t that bad until you got here and gave them false hope. Don’t you remember those radio calls? How I told you to be very careful of your next actions because they will be delivered ten fold onto your friends.”

“You want me to lie over and just...stop?”

“I want you to confess! To show me you are worthy of atonement!” He stood his ground, hands flying wildly in gestures to accentuate his point. He was a second away from stomping his foot in a show of anger. “It’s simple.”

Rook blinked owlishly back at him. Less than two feet away and all his crazy flying in the air to make her more hesitant than she usually was. More intimidating when others lives were riding on the line, right outside these walls.

“I’m done playing cat and mouse with you. My brother and sister have their ways, ways that I’ve never much liked dear, you’ve encountered them, no?”

She nodded once, curtly. Not stepping away fast enough to escape John’s grasp on both her upper arms. He pulled her in tight. Crashed her into his chest and spun them around to fall back on a set of pews in the front. She was half sitting in his lap, weight crushed down on his knee as he struggled to keep her still.

“Behave for once in you life!” Arms tangled around her waist, fingers grasping for what he had carried in his pocket for the last couple of days since hearing the deputy was back in his part of town. Running from the wrath of Jacob. “You won’t listen to my methods, to my voice of abject reason. This is on you deputy, remember that.” He hissed the words in her ear. Made his voice echo in the church only to be replaced with the sound of that music box that she had come to dread. The first few notes already had her shaking. Ten seconds in and she was seeing red, eyes blurring at the edges. Twenty seconds and...and...slowed down. A broken melodic tune. Close to what Jacob’s exposed her to. But different in a way she couldn’t name.

“That’s it, deep breaths.”

Nothing at all like the experience she had with Jacob. No feelings of death or want to murder. Just a peaceful serenity that had her bones turning to jelly as she relaxed back into John.

“On the floor dep, right there. I like you like this, on your knees for me.” It was more empowering than he could’ve imagined. And suddenly he understood his brothers need for control. It was going straight to John’s head, flushing down lower, pooling blood in his cock. He was already hard. Jeans obviously tenting at the front. “I can guide you dep. I can show you the light, so to speak.” He laughed at his own words. Smiling wide as if he formed the most ingenious plan and wasn’t simply taking advantage of his brother’s conditioning.

And guide her he did. With a lack of shame he interlaced his fingers behind her head, widened his legs so she could fit between, and brought her close to his cock until it smeared a path of cum along her cheek when his hips jerked in an effort to get comfortable. The sight had him groaning already. With her dazed expression, so near to such an intimate part of him…she was sin incarnate herself.

“You’ve denied me for too long deputy.” He bit down on his words when her parted lips--forced by his thumb--opened up for his length. The head of his cock slipped in with ease. Creating a hum through his throat as he basked in the warmth she offered. His head tipped back as he pushed her down further. “Can’t run anymore huh?” John quipped, reveling for the moment on how silent she was with him slowly shoving down her throat with gentle rolls of his hips.

He kept himself quiet. Bit his lip whenever her muscles spasmed around him in protest and he felt the need to moan. This was wrong, in the holy place of God, not even on his own land. John wasn’t about to stop now, not when he finally had her in his grasp, when she was showing her sin to him. A sin he was glad to know they shared.

His thighs tensed around her head, body buckling forward on its own accord. He was pulling her closer. Practically choking her and disregarding how she was squirming in need of air. There were soft sounds dropping from his lips. Ones of praise that reached somewhere deep inside Rook, unlocking that part of her brain that lit up just as Jacob had programmed it to.

John bucked his hips up lightly. Using her as little more than a living toy. “You might have your uses Dep, maybe you’re not such a hinderance.” Spoken under his breath as he ghosted a kiss to the crown of her head.

Practice made John silent when he came. Years of hiding that sin from those who believed him to be holy and a brother afraid he’d fall back in his ways of a party animal had John falling back into step when he closed up his throat and only whimpered when Rook sucked his dry. Sputtering when he didn’t immediately let her go to take in a breath.

“Yeah,” John slumped down in the pew, legs interlocking the deputy in place when she tried to backpedal. “You definitely are beneficial to this project.” He laughed, a sound that made him wince when it echoed around them. “Guess Joseph was right.”


	29. Nighttime Ritual

His hand was clutching onto the radio like a lifeline. Gripping so hard that the plastic was cracking, threatening to snap if he wasn’t careful. And he needed to be careful, so his hold loosened just barely on the one thing keeping him sane. Though at this point it was more the idea of the radio and the possibilities it held that was making sure his mind didn’t crumble any further.

His lips trembled, a thin line of sweat covering his skin as the radio pressed into his cheek. He rehearsed the words in his head. Went over his tone, how he could say it, imagined the response he would get. Or lack thereof if God wanted him to suffer further.

“You awake Rook?”

John wasn't left waiting. Not when Rook had been through this before. Had watched John slip into the role of Judas beautifully as she guided him with gentle hands that he had hardly experienced. They’ve had nights just like this one. With John miles away curled up in the fetal position and begging for Rook to be there with him. “This once, only this once. It won’t happen again.” It would. This was the fourth time this month.

She didn’t mind. Couldn't deny him after seeing first hand how John was plagued with nightmares. Ones that held him in their grasp and kept him terrified. Made him into nothing more than a scared boy again when he woke with fear in his eyes.

That’s why time and time again she found herself in John’s large bed with the AC blasting and the low hum of music coming from a playlist on his phone. He’d tangle limbs around her body and whine in her neck. Their routine didn’t change, it couldn’t. Not when this was working so perfectly for them. With John slowly regaining every last shred of humanity Eden’s Gate had torn so brutally from his grasp. He spoke with a gentler voice, didn’t force people down into bliss soaked water the first chance he got, knives seemed to disappear from confession overnight.

And no one knew why.

Rook was content with that. Wasn’t looking for credit. Didn’t mind that no one was throwing her a victory lap. She already had a gift in her eyes, she had received a fine reward for placating the Baptist. Nights like this reminded her of that. Nights where John didn’t mind showing his soft side and let her run soothing hands over old scars formed when he still had his innocence. It was worth it, even if it made them both traitors to their respective sides.


	30. Advantageous

The hit delivered to her temple had been a little rough. A tad too much force behind the butt of a gun aiming to render her defenseless by one of his own. John couldn't fault the man, his people were angry. And the way he saw things, they had every right to be, this woman had waltzed into Hope County and started her warpath right at his feet.

The scolding he gave to his men for their wrath was only for show. If just to appease those who were just as serious as The Father about keeping their sin in check. John wished he would’ve been the one to bring her to her knees. He’d have time for that though. With her tucked away with him as her keeper....yeah, so long as she fought him--and he already knew the trouble that followed quick at her heels like a pack of wolves--then he was sure he’d have fun with this new development for sure.

John held her close to his side. Ignoring the pride he felt at carting her inside his ranch. Showing the men that littered the area that the deputy was his. That he was the one to capture her, render her incapacitated. Word might get back to Joseph, maybe he’d get a reward for his troubles.

And it was trouble. Keeping such a volatile woman in his home because Joseph didn’t want her stored in a bunker, wanted better treatment for a woman he believed to be special. He could play along if it meant pleasing Joseph and walking through the gates of Eden a changed man.

That’s why he was letting the enemy in his home. Leading her up the stairs and carrying the brunt of her weight as he struggled shoving open his door. He allowed her entrance and total view to his personal space. The place he laid his head down to rest. Now he had to share. And he’d be lying if he said that when Joseph dropped that particular piece of news John didn’t feel like a petty child greeting a new sibling to the family.

That greed never really went away. No matter how much Joseph urged it to with knives alongside well-intended words.

John hovered. Stayed by the edge of the bed he laid Rook in, not bothering to pull up a chair. Opting to lean back on his heels until his ankles grew weary and his hand had long past mussed up her hair with how he kept petting over her. Trying to see past the wrath she always brought along with her like a black cloud above her head. If God wanted to have mercy on him this once in his life then He would take away her wrath within a single moment and not let John go through weeks of rehabilitation with such an awful sinner who was yet to properly confess despite him already marking her.

He prays every night. So it was nothing new when he bowed his head close to her chest with clasped hands to complete the action. His lips moved, silently mumbling the words of pleas. To make this easy for once. To have Rook join him, to accept the Father. Because like it or not, Eden’s Gate wasn’t ready for the end. Not yet, there was still so much to be done. And if this woman signaled the end and was to be their downfall, they were screwed. John prayed for just a little more time, maybe if she was one of them, the collapse would be prolonged enough until they were all ready to head underground.

It was like that, with tufts of loose hair dangling, barely brushing over Rook’s chest, that she awoke. With a gasp and strangled whine, no surprise when he pulled back just in time to see her wince, one of his own slammed a gun to her temple, of course she’d be in pain.

John wasn’t tense, he was smart enough to know that he was in control. That he had all the leverage in this situation and she had nowhere to go. He laughed, drawing her attention as she scrambled to prop herself up on her elbows. “Checkmate, deputy.” He leaned forward, head tipped to the side when he garnered no reaction. It was a chess joke, her name was Rook. He was expecting something. Anything other than the blank zombie-eyed stare she was giving him. Her mouth flopped open and closed, repeating the motion two times over before a huff left her lips.

“What?” And now a frown was settling into place because she almost looked scared. His deputy was fearless, a snarky woman who by now he expected to be launching herself at him despite having a concussion. That was her, the one he’s come to love at some moments for her tenacity and hate when she was the sole source of why he was so damn stressed with Joseph not doing much better.

He leaned in closer to her, lifting himself off the floor to balance a knee on the bed. They were sharing the same air, and she wasn’t flinching. Wasn’t recoiling away and spewing curse words his way. Her eyes lacked wrath, making the tattoo on her chest seem null and void. He cradled her head, moving slowly like he was afraid he’d startle her. “How are you feeling dep? You all there?” With those words he drew back a hand to snap in her face. Sighing when she only jumped at the sudden noise.

“Does anything hurt?” Trying to get anything from her that told him that blow to the head hadn’t scrambled her mind and fucked her up for good.

All he got was a subtle shake of her head and not much else.

“Do you know what year it is? Your name, for fuck's sake.” John snapped, joking more than anything. She wasn’t hit that hard. No way she didn’t remember. After all that she did to Holland Valley and all the funds he poured into repairing the damage she wrought, she had to remember. It wasn’t fair otherwise.

But the mask of confusion she wore told a different story than one he wanted to believe. It made him sag downward. Moving to practically straddle her. He wanted to say he was on top of her to check her story, because if this was a cruel joke then he was hoping something like this, with their bodies pressing tight to each other, would make her fly into a frenzy of panicked movements.

Nothing. She just squirmed higher up to lean on the headboard, something he couldn’t read in her eyes.

There was anger, sure, he was pissed that his prayers went through and God had gifted him this. A new mess to deal with. But if Joseph was here, if he knew about this turn of events--which he would eventually--then he would tell John to reconsider his unchecked wrath. That God had taken his cries of help into consideration and gave him what he wanted in the form He saw best. John couldn’t take that for granted.

So John turned soft. Made his eyes lose their fire and replaced it with well-practiced warmth. It was almost too easy for John to see how this all connected to some greater plan. Simple for him to coo at a deputy who forgot the vehemence she once held for him.

And when her confusion was incorrectly transformed into tranquility, John felt successful for the first time in a while. Joseph had told him this one would reach atonement. She was so close, the sin scrawled across her chest told him that. For once he felt like everything was starting to all go to plan, he could wind her up and watch her go fulfill Eden’s Gate largest of dreams.

“You’re safe darling.” One of the many things he told her to ease her nerves and soothe her conscience until she was nodding along with everything he was saying. “You trust your husband don’t you?” That slipped out, came tumbling from his lips before he could rethink it.

“Y--yeah.”

He gave a curt nod, a jerk of his head that made him sigh with relief since he was stupid enough to try and spin such a story. “I am trying my hardest, trying to keep you safe from the ones who did this to you.” His fingers tugged her shirt to the side to unveil the tattoo he had given her. “It’s dangerous out there, I’ve told you this time and time again.” He hasn’t, she would never sit still long enough for him to ever tell her how right he was and how wrong she was. Starting now though he could tell her whatever the hell he wanted.

It was working, as guilty as he should feel for lying like the way he was, at least it was working. Rook bowed her head, a look of disgust and pain etching over her features as she touched along her marred skin, brushing alongside his finger in the process.

“I’m keeping you safe from the kind of monster who do this for no reason.” He understood the irony, and if Jacob was here they’d be sharing glances between each other.

“Did they do this to you?” Rook’s hand left her own chest in favor for John’s. Pushing his key out of the way with her pinkie finger and running the pad of her thumb over the words sloth permanently torn into his flesh.

“They did.” He cupped her cheeks again, risking the moment to press a kiss to the side of her mouth. “I’ll protect you though, no need to worry.” There was a look of skepticism over her face that made him breathe in deep. “You have to trust me,” Pleading because really she didn’t have to do shit for him, she could try to walk out right now and his story would fall apart. “Please.”

Rook shifted, not like she could move very much with how he was still sitting over her thighs. Her mouth twisted, eyes angling down then shut. Focused on something.

“You’re not wearing a ring.”

He froze. Hands dropping from her cheeks and curling in his lap as if he could now hide them.

“I don’t have one either.”

There was the anger, bubbling there as she saw through him so easily. Perceptive even when her memory was dead and gone. “You’re mine.”

“Through marriage or obsession?” He gawked at her. Shoving her down when she chanced trying to get up.

“Look.” His hand clamped down over her mouth before she could try to speak. “I am your husband, I don’t care if you don’t see that now. You will. If I have to tie you down to the bed for weeks with you relying on nothing but my hands to nourish you, then so be it. You will remember me,” His eyes clamped shut to block out the anguish appearing on her face. “You will, for the sake of Eden’s Gate.”


	31. Sealed Fate

He was glaring at her from his spot across the room. And for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why. She could admit that he had his reasons for wanting her dead, for wishing that he could take every item he kept stashed away in that toolbox that now laid overturned—the same time he smashed his workbench to the ground in a fit of rage—and use it on her skin like an artist shaping out a diving image. With all the tattoos he had the title wasn’t far from deserved either.

Yet there was something else in his eyes, hatred, no doubt. But an emotion she was finding hard to place. How he moved and spoke seemed off too. There wasn’t that normal cadence he had when she saw him on the TV screens littered across the county moments before her baseball bat connected with them. His hand motions, which he always had, whether it be a simple outreach towards someone or a palm laid flat to his chest, those were gone as well.

He was starting to scare her.

“I’ve been thinking about what’s keeping you from confessing.” His footsteps were loud as he got close, echoing in the large room dedicated for torture just like this. “There is something that always holds a person back when they are weary of speaking to me. Whether it be from a past trauma or the rumors they’ve heard about Eden’s Gate. Maybe a loved one missing for too long or…” He was standing a foot away from her. Thumbs shoved in his pocket with a hip jutted out. Looking down, not meeting her eyes. “Can you think of anything else that could stop a person from bearing their sins to me?”

“Maybe because you carve into them.”

“How else am I suppose to release their sins, bare their souls for all to see?”

Rook lifted her head more so than it already was. Fighting to find his gaze and shuddering when she finally did. “Normal baptists, normal churches, at confession I can assure you that physical pain isn’t apart of it.” This shouldn’t have to be a conversation, though she left that part out.

He shrugged, tipping his head back fully and breathing out a sigh. Easy steps that moved forward until he could bend at the waist, fingers clasping around her forearms, sliding down until his hands were covering her own. “I’m not about to argue about this like a child. Not when we have more pressing matters to attend to deputy. And I’d like to start with the fact that you are not being honest with me. You are not speaking to me as you should.”

She laughed. It might’ve been stupid considering what she was facing, what a man like John promised to bring to the table. “I’ll talk John. I’ll do it gladly if it means getting the fuck out of here.” Rook knew this whole thing was bigger than her. That every lost moment out on the streets meant some helpless person left at the mercy of some Peggie wanting bloodshed. She had a job, a role to fulfill. Rook would get her tattoo if it would get her outside quicker. Back to the front line where she had made herself at home. “So what should we talk about John?”

“This.” His words came with a rough squeeze of her fingers. One that was almost bruising. “What the fuck is this?”

He was brushing over her ring. A silver band. Nothing fancy, not that thick, it wasn’t shiny. Hardly noticeable. Especially with the fact that it wasn’t even offset with a sparkly diamond, one to mark any sort of engagement. It was probably the cheapest money could buy.

John’s adams apple bobbed roughly. Jerked taut under his skin as his muscles tensed and he waited for an answer. 

“It’s called a wedding ring.”

“Didn’t realize you had a husband. Would never have guessed it.”

“Oh now I’m just offended John. I think I’m a catch.” _Pride._

He held up a single finger. Head tipped to the side, near her chest. “No. Let me finish. I would never have guessed that our little deputy is married and has a husband somewhere in the world who let their wife run off to do such a dangerous job. A husband who hasn’t even tried to contact the cops or me or anyone of my siblings to inquire about their missing wife in Hope County who hasn’t called home in months.” John sounded exasperated. Hair tickling the exposed skin on her chest meant for her supposed sin. He breathed out a subtle shaky sigh.

“Because I can treat you so much better.” He perked up like he suddenly came to an astute realization. Switching her grip from her fingers to her shoulders. Yanking them as close as he could manage before continuing. “I can buy you a better ring than this piece of junk. I can give you whatever you need, I can keep you safe! Don’t you see that this is God’s will? He sent you to me, He’s giving us better lives than we could have ever hoped for.”

“He loves me.”

“Loved.” John snapped, like he had the full story and wasn’t just bouncing between ideas in his head in order to fit his agenda. He Jumped up and away from her. Pacing around like a caged animal. “That man isn’t here and you can admit to me that he no longer cares for you. If that’s the first thing you’d like to confess then I’ll take it.” He was urging her with wide eyes, still not stopping with how he walked back and forth. Hands curled up into fists that could provoke if need be.

Would be as easy as just telling him what he wanted to hear? Would he back off or would it fuel whatever fire was burning inside him?

Rook breathed in deep, ignored how his eyes darted down to her rapidly rising and falling chest. It could be that simple, with her saying one word in order to spare those in Hope County. The lives of the few….the lives of the many…

“You’re thinking about it. Realizing how right I am.”

“Maybe I am.” She confirmed softly. Lies, such dirty lies tripping over her tongue that it felt like treason. It caught his attention though. Stopped him dead in his tracks and made him rush forward like the words would suddenly drift away and get lost in their enclosed space. He cupped her face, getting close as he kneeled down.

“Yes, you are aren't you? I can see it in your eyes.”

Either he was blind or lying like she was. There was rage settled beneath her skin. Burying in deep so that when she uttered the words he longed to hear that he would take her from his bunker with caring hands that would leave a promise of never hurting her. She’d spin tales for him in this moment and in weeks to come he’d relaxed and believe that she was finally his. Standing beside him as a saving grace.

He could be happy. And she would gain quite the advantage.

He would notice one night that the ring he so despised was gone from her fingers, lost somewhere so that the final shreds of tensions between them would dissipate. In reality it was hidden in the toe of her boot. Later that same night he’d draw her in near when he brought her to a sermon given by Joseph, he’d hold her hand tight and smile at his brother in triumph, and his dutiful sibling would reflect his jubilance. A silent victory for Eden’s Gate.

One word, his favorite, would seal his fate before he was even aware of the danger he was putting himself in. Because Rook was a lot of things, but a traitor wasn’t one of them. So that word would fall from parted lips in a dimly lit bunker that smelled of blood and death, reminding her of vengeance, and she would say that single word that he's heard many times from repentant sinners, she’d say it gladly with a heavy heart, because two months from now she’d be the one striking this man down with hands curled tight around his windpipe when he laid beside her, arm tossed over her stomach in an act of love he had always wanted.

She would try to feel no mercy as the life flickered out of his eyes, she’d shed a single tear right before the breath left him and there was no way John Seed could ever harm anyone ever again. Her hands would stay on his throat minutes after he had gone cold. Afraid to let go of one of the best things that happened to the both of them or was she only making sure he’d never be able to harm anyone again? Hours after his death murder she’d have his key around her own neck, reminiscent of those days where he sometimes trusted her enough to wear. In her head she’d have that voicemail ringing around her head that she recently heard right before she stepped out of his ranch for the last time.

_"After all the atonements, all the confessions, all that you've done for me and Eden's Gate, it's not enough... Is it, John? Cast away your past, you need to open up your heart, you need to see that there is more love all around you. All the pain and suffering you spread will not help us in the long run. These actions will only feed the sin inside you. It will grow stronger, it will convince you to do wicked things. Those you scar too deeply, they will heal. They will become carriers of your sin. They will spread that sin to others. I've seen your death in a vision. You're destined to be slayed by your own sin. It will come back around in a new form, it's only a matter of when. I've seen you die young, I've seen you die old. The difference between the two outcomes is how much love you let into your heart. I pray that you hear these words before it's too late. I want to see you become an old man in the paradise we've prepared for. I love you, brother... I love you."_

John let love in, he did love her. She knew that, was witness to it every day when she woke up and he was quick to follow with a tired smile on his face, disbelief in his eyes, waiting for this dream to end, not yet believing she was his. She ripped life out of his hands without mercy.

Maybe Joseph was right, in a way, the sin casted down on her, the one she had never truly experienced before John waltzed into her life, the man who had a penchant for bloodshed, was wrath. He projected that sin upon her until it was coursing through her veins and it was all she would ever know. His own sin came around to bite him. So when he smiled at his brother so wide that first night of her attending a sermon preaching on the end of times, that glint in his eyes was clear and bright, as if to show Joseph the evidence that he would be fine, that he would walk into Eden…but it was already too late. Because wrath was forced upon her and it festered inside her until it bubbled up and needed somewhere to go. She found that outlet in John. Stopped that blooming man who was going through a new chapter where violence wasn’t always the answer.

She ruined that. She destroyed a family. Tore their hearts into pieces all because of her wrath. The wrath that was John’s closest friend now lives on in her. She knows that now. And she’s so, so sorry.


	32. Boredom

She leaned further back in the chair, wood creaking as she rocked back on two legs. Dangerously close to falling. Though Rook was more concerned with the radio in her hands than falling back on her ass.

There were more important things filling up her head. Such as the fact that she was so fucking bored. Lying low, flying under the radar before she got grabbed again by one of the Seeds and staying in Dutch’s bunker 24/7. Turns out it wasn’t much fun, even if the old veteran made fine company. It was too much of a deviation from what her life was on a day to day basis.

She was all for new discoveries, trying new things once because she was sure death was taunting her just around the corner, but this experience had her ready to pull her hair out. Maybe that’s why it suddenly seemed like such a good idea to grab her radio with the consideration to call one of the Seeds.

She had options. Options were fun, more fun than counting bullets for the fifth time or listening to the dull Peggie chatter Dutch tapped into. So yes, the prospect of choices had her sinking her teeth into her bottom lip in thought.

Joseph was out almost immediately. Crossed out in red sharpie in the list floating through her head. She had a feeling that if she called so early in the morning that he’d find some way to spin their conversation towards the subject that her contacting him was a sign from God and not just her running in the dark clueless. He had a knack for that, something innate built into him urging him on to preach to even those who wouldn’t listen. Turns out those talks weren’t so fun would, leaving her with a headache and plain annoyed.

Faith was a no. The last thing Rook needed was for the girl to start praising The Father, speaking of how Rook could be rehabilitated and should walk the path. She could see the light and emerge anew if she’d just let Joseph in her life. It was a lecture she didn’t need.

Calling Jacob was just plain stupid on her part. It’d tempt him if she said the wrong word with the wrong tone. Pulling on his chain wouldn’t end well for her, he wasn’t the kind of guy you could joke around with without ending up with a few broken bones.

“John you awake?”

Her head tipped back, eyes shut against the bunker lights.

“Jooohhhnn.”

Nothing. Only a crackling connection that wasn’t too strong. She let her huff of disappointment ring through the radio.

“Oh John?” Rook sang, verging too close to the literal song about Hope County’s infamous baptist.

She rocked back and forth on the wooden chair. Eyes half lidded and lips pursed. She had nowhere to be, nothing to do. Really she could stay up all night waiting for him to answer her. Her mouth opened, ready to consider her next words, her radio crackling to life beat her to it. “Deputy.” Curt. Short. John sounding tired and displeased. “Calling to confess I hope.”

“And if I was?” She wasn’t. But she imagined the best time would be over a radio where his knives couldn’t get to her.

John hummed, a shuffling noise coming out clear, almost on purpose as she imagined him adjusting his position. Falling into character despite not having an audience. “I’d be more than grateful.”

“Why’s that?” She let all four of the chair’s legs fall to the bunker floor with a thud.

“I’m a baptist, any confession given to me is sacred and welcome.”

Rook laughed, thumb pressed tight on the red button on the side of the radio, making sure John could hear her amusement. “Bullshit.” She distantly recalled how John looked after he dunked her in a pond contaminated with bliss, holding her under for a little too long and taking out his pent up anger on her while she was defenseless. Joseph had held them close in that moment, with a gentle hand rubbing at the nape of his neck tenderly with guiding words. She remembered what he said even through her drugged haze, probably because it was the only time she’s seen John so vulnerable. “You’re scared, afraid you won’t make it to the promise land. That’s why you’d be grateful to take my confession.”

He hid his surprise with a low growl before speaking. “Did you call only to argue about the beliefs of Eden’s Gate?” He sighed, blowing out air roughly like a bull. “I’m too tired, no, too stressed, to debate religion. You wouldn’t listen anyway Wrathy.” He sounded worn out, and didn’t seem to bother hiding that fact. Showing drawn out sighs and breaths of discontentment like they were old pals. It wasn’t what she signed up for.

It’s not like she was stuck, she could easily put down her radio, make sure it was turned off so no one could bother her for the rest of the day and crawl into bed since she knew it was an ungodly hour in the morning. They’d both forget this ever happened and be back at each other's throats a week from now. Real easy.

“Rook?”

“I’m not actually confessing.”

He chuckled at her words, “Figured that. But while we’re here, while I’ve managed to hold your attention, can I confess something to you? Would that--” He paused, and she was sure she heard him curse, “Would that be okay? If this isn’t going to work the other way around.”

She stood, chair creaking and hand tight around her radio, eyes falling on a cabinet she was well aware had a stash of dwindling liquor. She hesitated for half a second in grabbing the neck of the closest bottle when she peered inside, settling bank on the mattress she claimed as her own. Doing this drunk might’ve been a sin, not like she was about to leak that to John who no doubt would have a fit. “Go for it.” Because she was bored and apparently that made her brain malfunction.

“You’re right.” It was just the first sip, a rushing splash of wine down her throat, not nearly enough to impair her senses, and yet she struggled for half a second to see what he was talking about. “You’re right. I’m scared. Everyday I wake up knowing that my ticket to entering Eden’s Gate with my family is out there causing damage and refusing to cooperate.” He hissed out a pained breath by the time she took a fourth sip. “Do you know what it’s like to have your salvation dangling above your head? And I’m running around like a puppy trying to chase it.” He paused, breathing in deep, “Well? Do you?”

She considered his words. Weighed them out as she wiggled the bottle of wine in her grasp. “Nope. Can’t say I do. No wonder your not much fun, you must be stressed.” Meant as a joke yet landing flat from the way he laughed sarcastically.

“You’ve no idea. You can’t understand how selfish you’re being.”

Rook winced. She absolutely did not feel bad for him. She didn’t care that he sounded broken and genuinely afraid for his future. She opened her mouth, sucking in air to decide what to say. “That’s...that’s quite the confession. I think I can help.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word!” Had she said the same thing to him in the same tone he would’ve accused her of wrath. She was bigger than that. She bit her tongue and continued on like he hadn’t spoken.

“Look.” She sat up a little taller from how she had slumped over into the pillows. “I think we can come to an agreement, something that’d make us both happy.” Rook ignored his terse, “I doubt that,” mostly because he was right and she’d worry about the impending guilt later.

“Come find me John, we’ll play a little game of hide and seek.”

“And if I find you? If I win?” Not a yes, but there was a pique of curiosity in his voice, a twinge away from sadness and that was her main goal, to deviate from the ledge he pushed them to when he took this further than she wanted.

“Me. You’re golden ticket if I’m following his euphemism correctly.”

The radio clicking off was enough of an answer. Cat and mouse should be fun. Especially when she had zero intentions of coming up out of the bunker which she found herself so cozy in. She’d be content to hear his ramblings over the next few days, it’d stave off her boredom just fine.

Not like John Seed could get any crazier, with her luck it’d make him unhinged enough that he’d be that much easier to take down when the time came for that.


	33. Not So Truthful

“You knew.”

John leaned in closer, nose brushing her skin, rubbing along her soulmark. The ones that held a scratchy set of words that related so closely to John that anyone would be a fool if they thought otherwise. A series of phrases that the baptist was known for. Reminding her to say yes, to confess.

She saw it, read those words for days. Confused and excited all at once for what kind of soulmate she would find who preached such values. She didn’t even have to meet John Seed in person for it to sink it. She had a hunch reading through the notes Dutch had strung up, rode it off as a coincidence, nothing more. Then she drove through his valley and couldn't help but slow down her steps when she came across another billboard proclaiming his doctrine. The huge YES sign on the horizon really sealed the deal.

Rook tried to avoid him after she learned who he was, for some time she questioned if he knew too. Though that was before her baptism. Before she saw him and got the impression that he was the kind of man who didn’t like to share, who didn’t take refusals very well. Even if that sharing was as simple as others being around what he claimed was his. If he had known then and there with her standing before him in bliss filled water, he would’ve done something about it.

Now with the look of anger over his face...he couldn’t have been aware. He never had the smallest of an inkling of who she might be to him.

And now with her soulmark bared to him, hidden in such an intimate place with his scruffy cheek rubbing against it, she couldn’t exactly tell him he was wrong.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me.” An accusation that made her wince when he lifted his head and she found no anger as per his usual. It was instead an awful gut wrenching sadness. This deep underlying hurt that has been formed over the course of his entire life, with no respite from all the world's bullshit. She was supposed to save him, it was her duty as his soulmate. And it broke her in strange ways she couldn’t comprehend with how that thought stung her. “Do you do this on purpose?” When she stayed silent he breathed out an angry sigh, “How you hurt me the way you do, Is that done on purpose?”

John was literally shaking with anger. Fingers twitching, jumping around to brush along her skin and landing to cradle her head. Tipping it up as he stood. “Look what you’ve done to me. You’ve made my life hell, you made me hate myself, doubt God too.”

Rook sucked in a breath. “Sorry.”

He laughed. Clear and loud. Piercing the air and making her jump. “Sorry doesn’t fix things. It doesn’t amend your sins.” He broke free from her, turning his back with hands laced behind him. “I can fix that those, everything can be forgiven. It will hurt; and it won’t be easy. But it can be done. You will be scrubbed clean and you will endure hell just as I’ve done until you understand the pain your soulmate has gone through in order to have you. That’s a promise.”


	34. Gentle (NSFW)

His hands were warm in the very least, creating goosebumps along her exposed skin when a gust a air blew in from an open window. His fingers, dark tattoos catching on the moonlight, cupped her neck and ran down her shoulders, shedding her clothes in the process. Peeling off her shirt to hold her waist, dropping to his knees a moment later to kiss her stomach.

John’s eyes sparkled when he looked up at her. “We still good deputy?”

She breathed in deep, head lolling forward as she shivered. “Yes.”

That was all he needed to continue. To move his hands downward to her jeans, tugging at her belt carefully and letting it drop to the floor with a metal clink that sounded through the room. He mouthed at her waistline, slipping down her jeans until they pooled at her ankles. “Perfect.” John mumbled, hands moving up and down her thighs with reverence.

Rook shifted, bouncing on her feet as he stood, only a few inches taller than her, but looking down on her all the same. He drew her in close with an arm around her middle. John moved towards her neck, tipping her head back to nip and suck at her skin. Easing her back in the process until the backs of her knees hit the bed.

He was unusually gentle when he laid her down. Crawling up the mattress, way too clothed for what she preferred, boxing her in with forearms flanking either side of her head. “Really, look at you. The epitome of what I’ve always wanted.” His fingers grazed her cheek, tracing along scars and bruises given to her over her time spent at war. She was beautiful despite that. And John intended to show her as much.

John lifted himself up on his knees, seated on her hips with legs spread wide to accommodate her body. There, with her staring up at him with pupils blown wide, he began to undress. Moving tantalizingly slow. Popping the buttons off his vest with downcast eyes and slipping it off his shoulders, tossing it on the ground carelessly.

Rook’s hands were trapped, lying flat on the bed and stuck with how John sat on her. Her fingers clenched on the blankets in time with how John started to undo his blue button up. Revealing more skin than he previously had with his normal get up.

“Are we getting impatient?”

She huffed a laugh. Head tipped back to bare her throat to him. “Course not,” Her eyes held strong on his own, wavering only once to drop to his chest. “I can wait.” She couldn’t really, her wiggling hips said that much.

He nodded, leaning into her again until their chests were flush. He reached behind her with skill, propping her up just enough to snap the clasp of her bra undone. The fabric slid off easily in his hands. Showing off breasts that pooled out and filled his hands when he grabbed heated flesh.

Ever so subtly his hips rolled down, making her breath catch when she felt his hardness rub along her cunt. He kissed her then, rolling her nipples into hardened perky nub as his tongue invaded her mouth. Licking ravishly and sucking on her bottom lip with fervor.

He snaked a hand in between them, fiddling with his belt buckle until it loosened around his waist. His jeans and boxers were kicked off in the first show of awkwardness of the night. It eased the tension, making her laugh when he crowded her space again and she could hold him close. He fit between her legs, which wasted no time wrapping around his slim hips.

“Tell me you want me Rook.” He dropped his head down to her shoulder. “Tell me you want this, that you need this like I do.” She sucked in a breath. His insecurities sneaking into the night in need of reassurance.

She grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling him up to kiss him softly. Whispering into his mouth until he relaxed against her.

His eyes shone bright again, filling with a hope and easiness she hasn’t seen in a while. “How about,” John kissed her neck, fingers teasing at the waistband of her panties, “Can these come off?”

“Go for it Johnny.”

She missed the roll of his eyes when his head dropped down to do exactly as he said. He peeled off her underwear, kissing over her cunt with the tip of his tongue dipping between her folds for only a second. The touch had her whining all the same, no matter how brief it was.

He spread her legs, hands holding onto her thighs as he exposed her to his eyes. He shifted closer to her, reveling in the warmth she gave off before grabbing hold of his cock to rest along her cunt.

He slipped his tip in her entrance. Letting her walls pull and suck, showing him how eager she was. John pressed an inch further inside her when he covered her body with her own. Bearing down on top of her to press kisses against her lips. It was a soft gesture to ease the pain she must’ve felt as he rocked into her, forcing himself deeper into her.

Rook clawed down his back, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage as she pressed up into him. Making his cock slide in to the hilt so their hips were pressed together. “Are you still good? Is--” He breathed in a shaky breath to stop from thrusting, “Is this okay?”

“You don’t need to treat me as if I’m gonna break. I’m not that fragile.” She laughed, stroking the side of his face, “We’ve fucked before.”

“I know.” He pushed into her, watching her face for the subtle shift of enjoyment and pleasure. “I know that dear, It doesn’t hurt to go slow for once.” His words were accentuated with another slow drag of his cock. Her pussy lips suckled with a wet noise to go along with it as he moved back inside with a whimper coming from her.

He kept that pace, with him working in and out of her, head resting between her breasts. His beard scratched at her skin, a feeling that was different than the heat coiling in her stomach that never seemed to reach its peak with how slow he was moving. Soft moans pulling from his lips as sweat dotted his upper lip.

He gave her nipple a parting kiss before moving up on his knees to pull her in closer by her hips. At that angle he reached a deeper spot inside her despite the slow push inside.

There was a smile hanging on his face every time he made her squeal or beg. Hair hung in his eyes, this was taking a toll on him the same as her, it was evident in how he his thrusts stuttered and halted to keep from spilling inside her too soon.

“You’ve always been so perfect to me.” He grabbed at her legs, hoisting them over his shoulders and giving her ankle a tender kiss as he sharply thrusted into her. The rhythm he set had Rook far gone, moaning each time he pushed back inside. Her hips were rising off the bed to meet him, urging him on to go faster, rougher. “Easy darling,” The chastisement made her cheeks pinken. “You’ll finish, I promise.” He tipped his head back when a shock of warmth ran up his core, “Just have patience.”

His speed increased minutely when his hand dropped down to spread her folds. Toying with her clit with a soft roll of his thumb. The calluses there made her already sensitive body squirm beneath him. “Come on dear, cum for me.” His own hips stuttered when she clenched around him, squeezing at his cock and spasming as she reached her peak. Her fluids leaked out, combined with his own, which filled her completely and made obscene noises fill the room with his last few pumps into her.

John didn’t pull out right away, instead opting to pull Rook in close and roll them over on their side. Yanking her leg to splay over his body when his head his the same pillow she was lying on. In that close proximity he pressed a final kiss to her lips, not getting much of a response when she was already falling asleep.

“I love you Rook.”

A smile flitted over her face as she nuzzled into his neck, pressing a kiss to his throat. “Love you too.”


	35. A Different Kind

It had never crossed her mind that the Seeds would ever find out that she wasn’t Christian. Did it matter in the end? Sure, the whole point of a religious war was your beliefs, but this was different. They were a damn cult and Christian or not, you wouldn't side with them. It never even came up. Maybe once, a night with her and her favorite pyromaniac as they lounged on a patch of grass with beers in their hands and the scenery mingled with fire playing out in front of them. It was December, he was joking about how the Seeds’ holidays probably played out, which turned on her. Resulting in a light shrug on her part and a whisper of “I’m Jewish. Hanukkah’s more my thing.” It didn’t warrant any kind of memorable response on Sharky’s part, because why would it? Any one of her friends could find out and it wouldn't change a damn thing.

Now it mattered. John was staring her down, well, more like staring at her chest with a fire in his eyes that scared her. With shaking fingers he brushed over the tattoo that took up the patch of skin on her body that he meant for her sin to lie down at. The Star Of David, done beautifully in navy blue ink.

“You’re Jewish?”

Rook didn’t answer. Only searched his face. Found him non moving, fingers still lingering over her chest.

“That’s a rhetorical question right?”

John shrugged. Not necessarily looking uncomfortable, only stumped. And she couldn’t blame him. She could only imagine the number of conversations the Seed family had around the dinner table about her being here was God’s will. Now it looked like their God had sent them someone who didn’t even practice their own faith.

A believer in her own respect. Just not the one preferable to a group of cultists who preached Christianity.

John blinked slow, rubbing at her skin like he could wear it away with a simple touch. As if it was a mere dirt smudge. “Yes. Yes that was rhetorical.” A pause as his tongue snaked out to brush at his lips. “Of course you’re Jewish.”

Rook’s mouth flapped open. Stayed that way for a beat too long as she tried to figure out whether to be offended or not. Maybe it was the tone of his voice. The way he enunciated the first two words, or perhaps it was how he chuckled foolishly and shook his head.

“Of course…” she trailed off, hoping he’d pick it up and deign himself to explain further.

He stood, hands hanging limply by his side. “Yes of course.” He laughed again. Shoulders shaking as he did so, like this was really something to be amused about. “God sent you to us for a reason. We knew you were different. And this is just the beginning I bet.” He was more talking to himself. Eyes lost somewhere that wasn’t near her, wild with excitement and something deeper than that. Almost as if he was finally content.

“It all makes sense.” John was in front of her again. Framing her body with his own. Caging her in and making her feel claustrophobic. He trailed his gaze across her face before drifting down to lay claim to her tattoo. “Can’t you see? My family and I have you, especially you, only you, because you’re different.” She kept silent, didn’t let him in on her inner thoughts that she would bet money on the fact that there were hundreds of other people in Hope County who weren’t Christians. “You are a nonbeliever. Someone that my family now has the duty of--

“I’ll fucking headbut you if you say that my purpose for being here is for you to change my religion.” There was a stint of silence before she continued, anger tipping over at the absurdity of this. “You can’t do that to people John, It’s not a sin.” The 6 pointed star throbbed dully on her chest, a helpful reminder of who she was. Who she identified as. They couldn’t just take that from her, even if John intended to tear off that scrap of skin as he had done thousands of times in the past despite it not being a messy written out sin.

“I never said it was a sin.” He was speaking quieter though. Sounding too unsure. “But my parents, you see…” his voice rolled off, losing steam and vehemence as he tipped his head down to press the softest of kisses to her tattoo. “Of course it’s not a sin. Eden’s Gate accepts everyone from all walks of life. That’s why we’ve been chosen to lead those after the collapse.”

There was a wetness in his eyes when he looked back up at her. Peering behind stray hairs that had fallen in front of his face. “We won’t change you Rook, not when--” again he cut himself off. Lips twisting like whatever memory was playing in his head was physically hurting him. “You’re the one we’ve been waiting for. So how could you be anything less than perfect?” She wasn’t sure how the conversation delved into such a topic, but she was thankful for it. Because it lead John down some dark rabbit hole she couldn’t yank him back up from. It had him so silent as he stood on shaky feet and cupped her cheek to make her look up at him. “I’m not going to try to change you or your mindset. That’d be wrong.” Spoken as if he didn't understand but knew it was the right thing to say. “I don’t think the Duncans would agree on those terms but I’m trying to be different from how I was back then Rook. That’s what Joseph wants too.” He leaned down, moving quick as the ropes around her wrists were cut with a loud snap.

“I really am trying. And I think I can start with you.”


	36. Terms Set (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John spanking the Deputy. She comes to him every few nights asking for his help because "she's been bratty" and he obliges by bending her over his knee. (bonus praise kink)

“You want me to do what now?”

Rook shied away from his prying gaze, curling in on herself for what was probably the first time in her life. And for good reason considering what she just said.

“Look at me deputy.” God help her but she did. Something in his voice made her knees weak. No doubt he could see that when her gaze faltered. “Better.” He cleared his throat, fiddling with the key around his neck as he took a sweeping glance around his darkly lit room, she broke in after all, anyone could be hiding in the shadows. “Now, what do you want me to do to you? And may I ask why?”

“I need help--”

John held up his hand to stop her, eyes closing briefly as he inhaled deeply, hand resting on his bare hip because of course John Seed slept shirtless with only a loose pair of sweatpants. “I got that part. Explain deputy, before I grow bored.” In all truth he looked more tired than bored, and that fatigue could flip into agitation real quick.

“I--” She shifted, taking a careful step towards him. “I figured you could offer...guidance, you’re the one who saves souls, right John? Isn’t that your obligation to Eden’s Gate?”

“I do save people.” He agreed with narrowed eyes. “I punish the bad, exterminate it so the good can be revealed.”

Rook tipped her head in consideration of her next words, knowing full well that she never really answered his question. “We both know the damage I’ve done. The taunts I’ve sent your way for months now.”

“You’ve acted like a child, a petty brat. A thorn in my side. You realize this--finally--and you want help, you’re looking for my special touch and expertise in this field.”

“Yes. Yes that.”

John laughed, sharp and too loud. “My, my, look at you. You are enjoying this aren’t you? The simple prospect of my help has you swaying on your feet. You know you haven’t been acting right and you’ve come to me for punishment. What a treat.” He chuckled, somehow looking like the professional baptist even with unkempt hair and bags hanging heavy under his eyes. “What should I do with you dear?”

He clicked his tongue in thought. Eyes shining over with excitement as he neared her, reaching out too quick for her to pull back. He yanked her in close until her back slammed into his chest, wrapping arms around her until her squirming stopped, because she wanted this. That’s why she found it such a good idea to break into his house in the middle of the night without telling a single soul.

“I have an idea, someway to put you in your place. Maybe you’ll stop acting out after this, hm?” John took slow steps back until he could safely fall back on his bed. He wasted no time tugging Rook across his lap. “Perhaps all you need is someone to show you how to behave. To make you heel.”

His palm smoothed out over her leggings, form fitting, something that clung to her ass and thighs. He stroked over her flesh with calming motions until she relaxed into him, fingers not grabbing too tightly onto his jeans, but still there, ready to pull if need be.

In one swift motion he yanked her leggings down, whistling low in his throat, “No panties?”

“I can explain.”

“Oh I’m sure you can.” There was a sharp crack that made her jump when his hand came in to contact with her bare skin. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He rose his hand up again, taking note of the swell of her ass and the curve of her spine before slamming back down. Sighing in content at how her cheeks jiggled and swayed with how her hips squirmed.

He alternated his hits on each cheek. Making them both a blazing red by the time he reached twenty. He wasn’t being gentle.

John placed his forearm across her back, rucking up her t-shirt in the process. It was the only thing keeping her from leaping off his lap with each spank he delivered. “Stay still darling. I’m doing this to help you.” He bent to lay a kiss to her ass, feeling the heat that radiated off of her skin. “I’m sure you have it in you to be a good girl for only a few moments.”

Rook nodded fervently. Arching her body ever so slightly into the next soft touch he gave her. A delicate stroke over her reddened rear. “You want to be good.” An astute observation that made her whine into the material of his pants. “I know, I know,” He soothed, “But your transgressions must be met with the appropriate punishment lest you have the urge to commit them again.” His words were finalized with another rough slap.

Ten more had her skin tinging a light shade of purple amongst the red. “I think that should do it.” He rubbed the flat of his palm over her ass, moving back and forth until her whimpering had quieted down. He helped her up, hands steady on her hips and holding tight when she attempted to step away.

“You did good.” He shifted her so he could take in the fiery red patch of skin that he had created. “Lord knows you look good too.”

The praise went straight to her head, making her sway where she stood. John knew it, he showed it in the way he smiled up at her from his spot on the edge of the bed. “Are we still going to have problems after tonight deputy?” He rose just as she pulled away, a subtle wince as she grabbed her leggings off the floor. “Do I still need to keep an eye on you?”

“Dunno.” She covered her legs quickly, her bag hauled over her shoulder next, eyes darting to the open window--the only clear indication of her break in--”We’ll see.”

John huffed a laugh. Rubbing his hands together as if he were the one in pain. “In that case,” He intercepted her path before she could make it to the window, arms crossed over his chest in smug triumph. “I guess I’ll see you the same time next week.”


	37. Omegaverse (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Joey Omegaverse

He was pacing, back and forth in front of her. Eyes glued to the floor, flicking towards the metal door every few seconds as if he expected to be interrupted. Not that he didn’t take precautions already. Harsh words with a cold undertone directed at his men that this confession was of the utmost importance and he requested no one to bother him during that time unless his family was in need of him. But he handled that too, radio calls to all three of his siblings, much kinder words given to them lest they get suspicious.

Because with a reputation like John’s, people are bound to wonder. He couldn’t fault them for that, no matter how irritated it made him.

Realistically he had nothing to worry about. Though the sight of someone naked and tied up so prettily in front of him made him nervous.

“I’ve been thinking,” John turned again on his heel, pivoting sharply so he could stalk towards her, “We’ve both had time to think haven’t we Deputy Hudson?” He kneeled down in front of her, eyes taking in her disheveled appearance.

More focused on her scent though, in all truth. Breathing it in thickly, noting how it filled the small space and made him dizzy. She was scared, anxious too. And John would be lying if he said such a smell didn’t make him harden in his jeans. Ready for his knot to swell right then and there.

“I think it’s about time that I finally move forward, I’ve been all talk. Empty threats, we both know that.” He flashed a smile when he ripped the duct tape from her lips with a rough flick of his wrist. “I am a man of my promises.” He leaned in closer, placing his hands on her shoulders and promptly shushing her when she whined. “Do you remember what promise I made last week?”

He waited two heartbeats before straightening, hand falling to his belt buckle to draw her attention. “If I recall correctly, I claimed that you and I would soon learn who was in charge. You would come to the understanding that your darling Rook would not be rescuing you.” He fiddled with his belt, undoing the clasp. “I promised that you would be drained of all that hope that you still carry in your eyes like a fool.” His belt clanked dully on the cement floor when he threw it down, making Hudson wince. “That day’s today.”

The fight she put up was half hearted at best. He could smell her arousal, even when she told him to back the fuck up and not to touch her. She couldn’t hide her scent, and John has always used that to his advantage.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear earlier,” John snarled out as he wrangled her shirt off her, “This is meant to teach you, to build you up deputy Hudson, I’m not the enemy.” Those words were said as he sliced through her pants. Taking a few steps back to take in her half naked state.

He pushed his scent outward, made it flare until he saw her tip her head away to avoid the strength of it.

John popped the buttons open on his shirt, tossing it down easy as pie along with his jeans. He wouldn’t flaunt his sin to it’s full extent, even if his body was dying for such a thing. It’d go against The Father, making him just as bad as the sinners he was absolving.

But turning on his radio as he crouched between Hudson’s splayed legs, tuning into Rook’s channel, it was all too easy. Made even easier knowing that Rook was far far away, off in the Henbane saving the weak man that his sister had claimed. She couldn’t come running at the drop of a hat, she’d just have to listen to what he was doing. She’d have to hear his voice explain to her every small action.

It’d be a brief heaven for him, a victory amongst the larger war she was waging against him. And maybe hearing her colleague moan and whine out his name would convince her enough to take a step back and realize what she could have if she just said yes.


	38. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deputy letting herself get caught just so they can have a long sleep already. Because running around Hope County makes them sleep deprived and getting knocked out of a Bliss bullet seems like a great idea. And John reacting to this "confession" of theirs

She had been running on empty for longer than she thought. That realization came with the crashing defeat of her tripping and stumbling over her own feet. Shoes feeling like lead weighing her down too much for her to keep going. To just get up and go like she so desperately needed to.

It didn’t come as a surprise when she met the cold embrace of the grass around her, it really couldn’t, not after the grueling weeks she endured. The food she had in her bag was dwindling slowly, no amount of rationing she attempted would fix that situation. Her godforsaken fishing rod had snapped in two after a fight with a very persistent trout that she hadn’t gotten to eat. Most days the hunger cramps running through her stomach making her muscles clench would keep her up at night, the lack of water didn’t aid that problem either. The water she drank came from the taps of dead and gone homeowners, rusted and probably contaminated with bliss.

Despite all this she kept going. She played the County’s perfect little errand boy with no qualms or worry for her safety. Rook never really had a sense of self preservation, not the kind built for this kind of life anyway. Maybe that’s why things got as bad as they did. With her sleep deprived, getting a minimum of four hours a night, and ready to keel over at the next gust of wind that rustled the trees flanking her on all sides.

She was doomed right from the beginning, John’s men were biting at her heels, they had been ever since she crossed the line separating the Jacob’s homeland from Holland Valley in a mistake potentially--and admittedly rookie mistake--where she had meant to go into The Henbane in the hopes that the bliss would provide some much needed release. Not death, just peace.

One wrong turn on a barely there well worn road deep in the mountains and she had stumbled across John’s caravan. Her own car, way smaller than the white pickups that they were equipped with, almost collided head on with the ringleader. She had turned around as fast as she could have managed on such a narrow road. Not like that dissuaded them, maybe the threat of John’s wrath made them work that much harder to give chase.

A crashed car, hood smashed from a guardrail, left her on foot a tad too soon for her to be able to make any sort of run for safety. Strange that she found no shame to waste no time stumbling through the forest scared out of her wits, because on a good day she couldn’t face up to John, now with her as weak as she was, as tired as she was, there was no way she’d survive. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with his charisma and snake like charm.

And seep, blessed sleep at the hand of the bliss bullets she knew filled the cartridges of their guns--it sounded nice. So fucking nice that her legs were slowing down, not moving as agile as she once did. So she stopped. Rook let her toe catch on the root of a tree and went down hard.

They found her curled up on her side ten minutes into their search through the thick patch of a forest she ran into. Eyes shut tight against the weaning light of the daytime, a groan of annoyance leaving her lips. With her that far gone they didn’t even need the bliss to haul her back to John.

She was knocked out cold by the time he strolled in, dark sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off stained ink with a metal tray in hand. John paused where he stood in the middle of the room. The whistling tune he had on his lips dying out as he took her in. Drinking in the sight of her, quiet and demure for once despite the space he was taking up.

“Deputy.” He shifted closer to her, eating up the distance between them with much more caution than he normally exhibited, placing the tray down on a side table where it rattled with the items that filled it. He flicked on a lamp to the side, illuminating her better. “Dep?” She was pale, a sickly grey color that was almost worrying. He’d think her dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

He reached his hand out to cup her cheek, thumb moving over her skin like a metronome, urging her to wake. A subtle kind act he hoped would be the kind of approach Joseph would appreciate. To his utter amusement that seemed all she needed to stir, eyes twitching behind closed lids. Lips pulling down as she released a groan.

“There you are, awake finally.” John mused, bending at the waist to be eye level with her. His hand holding firmly onto her shoulder, rubbing at the tattered tank top she wore, already exposing enough skin for him to work with. “I had to wait five hours for you this time around, and that was without bliss.” He shook his head slightly, agitated maybe. “Joseph wants this over and done with yesterday. So lets start.”

The first thing she saw when she cracked open her eyes was John’s bright smile. Almost genuine if not for the coldness in his eyes, lord knows how he ever managed as a lawyer or a baptist for those who believe. If you looked, really searched deep, you could see through the act he was putting on just to get words to spill from your mouth. She didn’t return the gesture, only halfway lucid, and that was good enough for the kind of confession John intended to do. “I understand you may be nervous,” he began softly, playing the sympathetic, ‘I’m just like you are’ card. The kind that would win over anyone desperate and weary enough if he caught them on a bad day. John sighed, falling down on his knees to press in closer to her. “That’s okay, it’s normal.” He paused, as if waiting for her to pick up the conversation where he so graciously left it hanging.. “How about you tell me why you came along to willingly. You see, The Father disclosed to me that he believes your sin to be Pride, he never would have expected you to roll over and let us take you. Not after the goose hunt you lead us on.”

Rook snarled at that, anger flaring red hot. How dare he accuse her of her faults when his list ran a mile long. “I was fucking tired.” The truth was meant to set you free right? And if John wanted a confession she could tell the truth for once. This once if it meant getting out of here and curling up in some dilapidated house with a mattress stained with innocent blood.

He blinked once. Pulling back with wide eyes before leaning in again, face directly in front of hers. “You were---tired?”

She nodded once, curt and short. “Yeah. Physically. Mentally. Whatever, I’m done.” It wasn’t true, god it couldn’t be. In reality she could never stop. So sure, maybe Joseph was right. Pride was a dangerous thing. It could be what broke her in the end, the whole not wanting to give up when she’s not a damn soldier.

John was hanging onto the few words she submitted to him. Eyes wide and encouraging along with the constant bobbing of his head. “I see.” She was sure he was reading too far into her words, but she was tired, that fatigue, the draining feeling set deep in her bones made her feel like she no longer had the capacity to care. “You just gave in because you were tired, you laid down while the rest of the world was hard at work. Your laziness has probably cost some people their lives tonight.”

Rook jumped at the first press of ink staining her skin. Unsure of when the hell he had grabbed the tattoo gun, how she didn’t realize it was held in his tight grip that was poised and ready. “No.” Her mouth felt dry as he continued his work, not listening to her sorry excuse of a defense, moving quicker than she thought possible for a man who appeared to like drawing these sort of things out as much as possible. He was probably afraid of letting her have any chance of escaping him this time around, “I let myself get caught, just for a break John. After today I’ll be back on the front lines. You can count on that.”

He finished with a flick of his wrist and a smile. Rubbing over the new tattoo with the pad of his thumb, tracing the same sin that adorned the baptist’s chest.

Sloth. Offcentered and lopsided, done in a child’s messy handwriting, an angry red outlining the words. “Of course. If that’s what you want to tell yourself. Does that sound like Pride to you?” He hissed, brows tipping down in the process, cringing like just saying those words made the sin his own.

All the same he tattooed that next, stretching it across her already exposed forearm. “You can tell yourself that if it helps you feel better. If it makes you sleep soundly at night while others fall around you.” He smiled, something soft and personal, standing to look her over. “And maybe I shouldn’t say this, as much as Joseph would disapprove, but I’m glad your sins were your eventual downfall, for in the end they lead you right into my arms deputy. For that I’ll be forever thankful.”


	39. His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deputy has been married off to Jacob, and now that they’re expecting he’s jealous and angsty

His deputy.

It had just fell out from his mouth, spoken loud and harsh enough for Jacob not to hear it.

A freudian slip he could claim.

But Jacob had been facing him when John had said those words and he could lie, but Jacob had an innate ability at reading John. No way he didn’t see the anger in his eyes, the wrath that spilled from him when he said it. His deputy. His.

Fuck, even saying our deputy wouldve been better. He could explain that away with a sheepish smile and a hand curled around the nape of his neck as he averted his eyes. A namesake from the past when deputy Rook was running rampant and wasn’t fucking married to one of the Seeds, she was always called our deputy. Or sometimes his when he felt bold enough, no one questioned the term.

But his own brother now had the liberty of calling that woman his wife. So Jacob was standing back, a strange look on his face and a tilt of his head as he swept his gaze over the length of John’s body.

“Repeat that for me Johnny.”

He didn’t.

“John.”

He shifted his feet towards the door, seriously thinking of running at this point so he didn’t have to explain the biting jealousy eating him up inside.

“You at least wanna look at me?” Jacob asked, voice going quiet when he walked forward. His hands curled behind his back as he stalked in closer, pinning his brother between himself and his desk. “I give you what is possibly the best news in my whole goddamn life and this is how you react? You wanna play the role of the pissy little brother instead of celebrating? Fucking fine, you can’t even stand others happiness Johnny, something’s changed you.”

That made John cringe, shoulders curling inward as he tipped his head down. Trying to appear smaller than he already was in Jacob’s presence. Because Jacob wasn’t wrong, he was different. Changed. His world did a fucking 180 in a single moment when they got married, when Joseph had to play the teasing brother he rarely did and elbow Jacob in the ribs with the cheeky question on if they planned on consummating their marriage as if they hadn’t fucked before--John knew they had--could see it by the way Rook blushed and Jacob winked at her.

It was another stab from his own bloodline when Jacob had invited him over and dropped the news.

They were expecting. Rook was going to be a mother and Jacob a father. John and Joseph expected to play the role of uncles while Faith was promoted to an aunt.

In any other situation he’d be proud of his brother. After all the man endured he deserved a family, a domestic little lifestyle and his own spawn to nurture the way he never had.

His deputy.

The words now felt sour on his tongue despite him only saying it once in the first time in three years.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Wow.” Jacob laughed, arms crossing over his chest as he smiled with mockery. “You really couldn’t have tried to sound less positive could you?”

John swallowed, straightened his back and forced a smile. “What did Joseph say?”

“He’s fucking ecstatic.” Bitten out with absolute anger as he leaned forward slightly. “Plans on getting us all together to throw a damn party.” If Jacob was known to joke around and Joseph wasn’t as crazy as he was for any kind of family, John wouldn’t have believed him.

“I’ll be there.”

Jacob scoffed, grabbing at John by his shoulder with a little too much force to be considered brotherly affection and lead him towards his office door. “Course you will, to see your deputy right brother?” The word brother spat out like an insult as the door slammed behind him.

*****

She wasn’t showing yet, there was no bump beneath the tight fitting shirt she was wearing. Nothing gave it away. And if he closed his eyes and pretended he could imagine that everything would remain the same, that maybe he could slip in closer to Rook. Sneak behind Jacob and wrangle her in until she was standing beside him.

Possibly the only thing that gave it away was how protective Jacob was. Draped over her shoulder with a palm pressed into the delicate curve of her hips, fingers brushing just barely along her flat stomach.

And of course Fath wasn’t helping in the way she was knelt on the floor, staining her knees green from the high grass of Seed Ranch, her hands on Rook’s navel, cooing at the child growing inside her with a grin stretching wide.

John almost wished he never came. Wished this damn party of sorts wasn’t held at the place he called home.

“John!”

He cringed, shoulders hiking up around his neck much like it did when he was speaking to Jacob earlier. Now doing the same thing because that man’s eyes were held on him, focusing on where John stood awkwardly in the path leading to them when Faith had called to him.

He shifted on his feet before moving forward. Uneasy when he stood next to his siblings, not meeting Joseph’s gaze, who no doubt already felt the tension hanging heavy over them.

John wants to say he tried to put a firm clamp down on the envy he felt bubbling up inside him. He wants to believe that he was the perfect embodiment of a gentleman and showed off as the pleased brother he rightfully should have been. And though he claimed to be a lot of things he was in no way a liar.

So yes, he may have avoided Jacob’s searing hot gaze and said words laced with razor sharp edges. There was a time when the smile he showed off to Rook while helping her set the table was more mocking than happy, and the teasing words were more pointed than usual.

“Really? Bedding down with Jacob, out of all the Seeds you could’ve taken? Is that the best choice dear?”

And when John cornered her, tucked them away in the kitchen until she was jammed between him and the counter, his hands on her stomach were more harsh than a kind and curious uncle.

Envy.

Envy.

Envy.

The word scratched at his mind restlessly, making the carved piece of skin on his shoulder blade throb as he snarled out jealous words in her ear that had her tremble at his proximity.

“You know that I’ve always loved you first. I don’t know what I did to put you off and make my brother seem more appealing, but that man doesn’t have it in him to nurture a child. Not after all the shit he has done Rook. You know that. I can see the fear in your eyes whenever Jacob talks about the future you’ll have.” He laughed, soft between them so no one could hear from where they were happy and gay in the living room. “I mean really, imagine what kind of life he could build for a family. The carnage in the mountains my brother manages isn’t easy to hide. You can’t raise a kid when just outside your room are people locked in cages starving and packs of bloodthirsty Judges.” John clicked his tongue, pulling back and placing his splayed hands on either side of her stomach.

His lips ghosted over her own, nipping at the flesh when she didn’t respond to the affection. “I’ll be right here Rook, if Jacob doesn’t take proper care of that child or he isn’t all he seems, you come to me. I’m your way out darling.”


	40. I Gave It All To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yandere!John, where he’s getting impatient for his "bride” Rook to see things his way.

“Where did you think you were gonna run off to?” He paced back and forth, hands curled into fists behind his back. His eyes flicked towards her when she remained silent, watching her twiddle her thumbs in her lap with a downed head. “I have these county lines closed off, my men are stationed there, protecting that area, making sure anyone who’s unauthorized does not go anywhere where they shouldn’t.”

John paused in his movements, stopping in the middle of their bedroom to stalk forward until he was standing in front of her. He grabbed at her throat, forcing her head to rise until they were inches apart. “You need to get it in that pretty head of yours that you aren’t going anywhere. Especially not in your state.”

His hand dropped from her neck to her stomach. Rubbing at the bulge there with a softness in his eyes. “I’ve given you everything you need, darling. Love, protection, and the start of a new family for the collapse.” He kissed her gently, smiling into it when she didn’t recoil like she once had done weeks ago. “What more could you want from me?”

She sucked in deep, letting out a sigh that was barely audible. Rook avoided his eyes as much as she could manage. Trying to reign in her thoughts to think of saying something that wasn’t bound to make him angry. Because three years into her capture and she knew John Seed well. She’s had the pleasure of seeing him at his worse, looking into his mind and peeling back each layer of the complicated bundle of nerves he was.

“Freedom would be nice.”

He laughed, a sound that was too manic and high pitched as he stepped away from her. His hands laid flat on his hips as he surveyed the room. “You have the gall to reject me still. I’ve been nice, I have given you time to adjust. I put food on the table, a roof over your head and clothes on your back. Much better than the life you had running amuck out there.” His head jerked over to the open window. The same window he had just caught her trying to climb out of.

She had worked for months sawing off the metal bars that he placed over her only way out. Months of work only for him to walk in at just the right time to grab at her waist and wrangle her back inside with almost superhuman strength.

She’d be impressed if she wasn’t so damn angry.

Or maybe she should be scared, since John had really been lenient before now. All those other times where she had been sulking around with fists flying his way and snapping teeth whenever he went to kiss her, he never once punished her. He never harmed her the way she did to him.

That cool exterior seemed to crack now. The calm, collected, picture perfect husband was breaking away into the kind of crazy she was used to seeing years back when she was the figurehead of the resistance.

“Joseph will want to speak to us. He has been watching you closer than I have on the rare occasions where you’ve been in the same room with him. He’s not happy.” John concluded with a cynical smile. He held out a hand to her, crooking them in a gesture for her to come to him.

She knew to listen. If she refused in the slightest he had no problem forcing her.

*****

Joseph speaking to them led her into the deepest parts of John’s bunker. Locked away like some damsel in distress, stuck with the rest of Hope County’s future generation who weren’t able to survive up above when war was being waged. It was filled with expectant mothers and children under the age of 21. All those who had been brainwashed by Eden’s Gate so long ago, but she assumed that if she made the effort to get to know some of them she’d eventually find someone who had been forced into it all just like her.

She tried to keep to herself for the most part. They didn’t make that easy. Because everyone knowing the child she was carrying belonged to one of the Heralds only made her new life worse. John was the one who made the fact clear to everyone.

They were like excited birds when they heard the news, hounding her with questions and flocking towards her as if the kid she was holding was Christ himself.

Lord knows that if she had the opportunity, that this child--which was fully hers no matter what John liked to think---would be raised as the Devil Incarnate just to prove everyone wrong. They’d wreak havoc the same as she did, carrying out the legacy she was forced to cut short. Even if the crimes were small and petty, she didn’t like to think that these people would be right in thinking that her kid was already a saint.

They’d make John form some fucking wrinkles for once, have Joseph going bald, and if they really put their mind to it they could maybe make Jacob grow a grey hair.

That thought kept her going, as amusing as it was. She planned on raising hell. Victory would be sweet.


	41. Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John proposes an idea to the deputy via video broadcast

The video started zoomed in on the ground, showing off a flashy red carpet with a pair of brown loafers that almost looked too clean, if that was possible. Slowly the image panned up.

Dramatic just as any video made by Eden’s Gate should be.

John pivoted on his heel by the time the camera reached his waist, making himself known with that telltale Eden’s Gate starburst on his belt and the long trench coat he rarely ever removes. His blue sunglasses, which she was sure no one’s ever seen on his face, rested on top of his head.  
  
His name appeared in a slow fading transition on the bottom of the screen in large, white, block letters.

“I’m well aware that all of us have sinned in some way or another. By the time our innocence leaves us as we enter adulthood, we commit transgressions that tarnish our souls—though not permanently. Everyone has gone through events that have led us here.” He looked off screen, eyes fluttering around to somewhere behind the camera before he trained his gaze back on the intended audience.

His lips quirked up into a smile, palm resting flat on his chest for emphasis at just how terrible everyone really was.

“You, me, even The Father, know deeply of sin.” His eyes were blown wide, staring right through the lens as his smile widened once more. “Our Heralds--Brother Jacob and Sister Faith, and me, of course--we’ve experienced temptation too. Though we must realize at one point in our lives that there is a dividing line between what sin we walk into ourselves and fate. Because something that is God given cannot be a sin when you fully accept it.” His chest visibly slackened when he breathed out, like he was holding in air, afraid to get his words out.

“Recently, God has sent us a group of people who have made themselves hard to ignore. I thought they were sin wrapped in layers of sin. It is with the guidance of The Father, and many of our loyal congregants, that I now can see that this was meant to be.”

If anyone looked closely enough before the camera had the chance to pan out to reveal his whole body, and the scene around him, they could’ve caught how his cheeks dusted a light pink.

“Deputy Rook, I will be the bigger man in this situation, as well as the one to apologize for everything you’ve been through. You must have been just as confused and frustrated as I during these past few weeks. Unsure if something so glorious could be sinful?” He posed it like a question, tipping his head to the side making her think of Boomer. It was reminiscent to that night where they were tangled in each other limbs on his imported silk sheets, and he had asked the same question--except all those weeks ago it was only him, her and the crickets outside his ranch.

This was much too public.

“I can take away your doubt deputy. All I need from you is an open mind.”

Rook would laugh if she wasn’t so utterly horrified. Painfully aware of everyone’s eyes dialed in on her. Not like she was about to acknowledge that. Nope, she was perfectly content to hunch over on her barstool with her cheeks a bright red and a death grip on her whiskey.

It had been smart an hour ago to accept Nick and Kim’s offer for a drink down at the Spread Eagle. Some time for a little R&R? Count her in.

No one mentioned that the damn TV stationed above the bar--directly to her left and way too close--would be turned on with the capability to pick up on every insane broadcast John presented them with.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

Kim laughed beside her, a hand already on her shoulder and squeezing tight, maybe an apology for putting her a situation that felt like it could turn hostile.

Her head was tipped down, but her eyes still were flicking upward to the screen. She was curious, though it was more of a morbid curiosity. The kind you’d get when driving past a car crash.

John was speaking again, dragging everyone’s attention in, making a quiet hush fall over the bar to hear him. “You see Rook, darling, beloved, can I call you that?” He laughed at his own words, smiling wide as he gestured to a fucking screen behind him. Something large with a beat up projector stationed in front that was probably borrowed from Jacob, only this time around gory wolf pictures were substituted for her own goddamn pictures. Baby pictures to be exact.

Ranging from when she was an infant to a bumbling toddler.

“Damn deputy.” A hand clapped down on Rook’s shoulder, heavy and way too excited for her liking, but Rook felt like if she took a swing at the sniper named marksman, she’d end up on the floor.

So instead she smiled, something forced that turned out to look more like a scowl when she took back her drink in one swallow. “Yeah Grace, it’s something else, huh?”

“Yeah..yeah. And don’t take this the wrong way, just me working on my people skills—y’know how it is—but you were an ugly baby.”

Rook heard Nick laugh, and if Kim wasn’t between them, she would punch him, because he wasn’t a marksman and he was properly drunk. She resigned herself for flagging down Mary May for a refill.

John started up again when she took another sip of her freshly capped off drink, baby photos well put away, rambling on about fate and God, because...well, he was John Seed and that was what he did best. Relate every little thing in his life back to God.

Meaning God meant for them to be together, everything was leading up to this moment where they could be one.

His words, not hers.

“So Rook, listen up--”

“Turn it up Mary, he wants Rook to listen!”

And that was Nick, yelping out of surprise when Rook leaned over across the bar to shove him until he toppled.

“I’m asking for you, beloved, in my life. I just want a taste of what it can be like.” His smile hadn’t dimmed, she focused on that intense look he was giving the camera instead of Nick’s laughter as he spoke in what he probably thought was a whisper to Kim, “Oh, he wants a taste huh?”

“The top of the Valley my dear, that’s where I’ll be waiting. On that mountain, right where my sign overlooks it all. I hope to see you soon, I don’t like to be lead on, be fast deputy.” 


	42. Sky High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook's deathly afraid of heights and John decides to take her out flying

“We’re gonna fucking die.”

“We haven’t even left the ground yet, give me a chance.”

“We’re gonna die.” She repeated, eyes wide and adamant, gripping tight to her jeans and shifting in the plush leather seats of John’s plane. His pride and joy, something only him and his brothers had the luxury of sitting in. And now her.

He said it like it was an honor. Brought it up one night after they fucked for the first time as bride and groom. He nuzzled into her neck and kissed up her throat with a smile. “I should take you flying. Have you ever overlooked the whole Valley?” He moved back to stare into her eyes, “It’s breathtaking.”

She had admitted to him right then and there that, nope, she had never had the urge to see his homeland from sky high. Never, literally not once. Then she kissed him hard with teeth and tongue and that was the end of the conversation.

Until he brought her into his hanger three days later with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step. Wearing that stupidly cute plane decorated jacket and a fucking brown leather pilot’s cap with goggles screwed on that she bought him as a joke.

He was excited and she couldn't just say no. Not when he was giving her a puppy dog stare with hands gripping tight at hers.

So, like an idiot, she agreed.

Now though, with him rolling his plane out onto the strip, preparing for takeoff, she was regretting every choice that got her up to this point.

“I’m the best pilot in the whole county, I wouldn’t trust anyone else but myself to put us both up in the air.”

“The best?” She questioned, peering at him through a shield of her hair.

He turned around from where he sat in the front seat (Cockpit? She wasn’t sure, it wouldn’t matter after today if they both went down in a fireball of death). “Yes.”

“Thought Nick held that title.”

His eyebrow twitched, somehow though, his smile stayed in place.

“Or maybe Jacob, wasn’t he in the air force?”

Now John’s smile was gone, replaced with a sultry scowl that had her scooching forward just to plant a kiss on the corner of his lips. “I assume you’re joking.”

Rook laughed, forgetting for a moment about where she was sitting when she tipped their heads together. “If I say yes and declare you the best pilot in the state, can I leave?”

He deflated at her words, pulling away to turn around in his seat. “I’m not going to force you.” His voice dropped down to a whisper, hands fiddling with the wheel. “But it’s a glorious sight from way up there.” His head slammed back to stare at the open sky, clear without any clouds. “And I’d never put you in harms way. If I really thought this was dangerous, or I incapable, I wouldn’t do this.”

“I--okay.”

He stiffened. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Yes, lets go. Fly John.”

He bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder to catch her eyes. She could see how hard he was trying to conceal a smile. He failed a second later, lips splitting into a wide grin as he wiggled in his seat, fingers flexing before he breathed in deep.

Rook was still terrified, she was hunched in on herself, curling up into a ball in the confined space as she felt them rise into the air.

She heard John’s chair squeak when he glanced behind him to look at her. “C’mon Rook, open your eyes.” He prodded gently. Suddenly his hand was on her forearm, squeezing her skin in reassurance. That action was enough to make her eyes fly open.

“The fuck are you doing? Put both your hands back on the---” Her eyes darted to the left, skipping over John’s wide gaze to catch the scenery flying by them. “Oh.” Her whole body deflated as she took in Holland Valley from up high.

She glanced over to him, seeing that smile that shone with pride.

Rook shifted closer to the window, hand pressed flat on the glass to risk looking down. His hand was still on her arm, rubbing circles into her skin when she still jumped at the way the plane shook. “We’re fine. See?”

She nodded, silent as she took it in. He was right, it was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking from this angle. She looked over at him and she saw how confident he looked. So at home in the sky. Like he belonged there.

She wanted to kiss him. To pour out her love and confess such a thing to him even if he was already well aware.

Really, she wanted to do a lot more than a kiss, come to think of it.

“Land the plane.”

“Wha---I thought--you seemed so--”

“John. I think I wanna fuck you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then another. Then the plane began to lose altitude. She laughed, moving to kiss as his neck from behind. “Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”


	43. Stunned Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook is really surprised the first time John Seed manages to pick her up. Just slings her over his shoulders - fucking caveman style

Rook was in a state of complete and utter shock. He had literally stunned her into silence. A feat she was sure even he never thought was possible.

All it had took was him being angry, so fucking angry. Boiling with rage directed at her for destroying his silos, the fifth one, he bit out at her with a snarl--because yes, he was still talking through her shock--too angry to realize how her mind was in a whirlwind.

She was still trying to figure out how he managed to heave her off her ass and over his shoulder so effortlessly, not groaning to indicate any strain was put on his muscles.

But he was...he was so...lanky. From what she’s seen over tight fitting clothes, he has such a slim waist and tiny, noodle arms. Fuck, if any Seed managed to haul her off the ground, she’d go for Jacob. He thighs could crush her head like a watermelon. But John, no, that hadn’t crossed her mind. She probably would have put Joseph as a better contender for this kind of thing.

“You’re not even gonna say anything deputy? Maybe when we get continue your confession you’ll be more forthcoming. You’ll tell me why you feel the need for such wrath. What have I done to you to warrant---”

“Are you tired?”

She had to know. He was walking up a hill, legs eating up the terrain in front of them. She’d be able to understand the situation if he was getting winded. He’d live up to her expectations perfectly. And maybe that low churning feeling of warmth in her stomach wouldn’t be so prevalent. The thought of John being strong enough to manhandle her was fluttering through her head, and she wished he would just answer her instead of stretching out the silence.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m 150 pounds.”

“Ah.” There was a pause. “What?” Now he stopped. Just stopped moving up the hill that seemed to stretch on forever. He took that moment to shift her in his arms from how she was thrown over his shoulder. It drew her up higher, had her fingers scrambling to grab at something, eventually settling for the hem of his pants. The action didn’t have him falling to the ground like she thought it would.

“Has Jacob been training with you?”

“Deputy.” He sounded impatient, reigning in his anger before it created a worse problem for them both. _“What?”_ The man had the audacity to jostle her. Shaking her in his tight hold, making her have the sudden fear that the ground was about to come crashing closer. The yelp she let out was indignant and not at all what she wanted him to hear.

“Oh what the fuck.”

John laughed, a second later starting to walk again with a little more pep in his step. “Oh, I’ve surprised you now, haven’t I?” There was a smugness in his voice that had her breathing in through clenched teeth.

“You’re scrawnier than Faith.”

He shifted her weight to his other fucking shoulder like it was nothing--maybe to prove a point that he was not as small as his little sister-- moving her around as if those muscles on his right side had gotten tired and it was nothing more than a passing thought than to distribute her to his left side. “I assume that’s not your lust talking.”  
  
“No.” She breathed. “No it’s really not.” God she was lying. He wasn’t aware of that from the way he kept speaking, but the rolling feeling in her stomach was enough to go by, that yes, her lust was showing itself.

“Gotta say, I think I can live with making you speechless, it’s truly a sight to behold.”

“You can’t see me John, not when you threw me over your shoulder like a deer.” She bit her tongue, holding back on the part in how it was the way she preferred lugging around dead bodies. She didn’t need him questioning her on that front.

“You know what,” He stopped again, head swiveling and eyes sharp with mischief. “You’re right. I can’t see you, not with the way you are. My fault, really deputy, I’ll take the blame for that.” He was rambling. Filling the empty air as he moved her again, going oh so slowly when he hefted her off his shoulder and into his open arms. Holding her bridal style with a sharp smile.

Blood rushed to her cheeks when she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, still scared of suddenly dropping when his arms gave out. Though it didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon, and that made things worse for her. Because, fuck, it was hot. John Seed wasn’t supposed to be strong, and the newfound discovery stoked a fire inside her that made her hide her burning face into his neck.

She pointedly ignored his laughter, ignored how it made her gut churn with want and how his suggestive comments on how he’d be more than happy to make her blush like that once they got home--home, not his bunker like he first suggested.

This was how she died then, in the arms of a man who was literally two inches shorter than her. She was really doing a disservice to Hope County.


	44. Tunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finding Rook singing his own song

Her head was tipped down in concentration, focused on her feet stepping one after the other on the thin metal guardrail. Her arms were held out on either side of her in an attempt to not fall onto the asphalt inches below. She stood out like a sore thumb with her balancing act, John could see her from where he sat in an unmarked car fifteen feet away.

This was who managed to escape his brother and their men last night. She was tall, sure, but he couldn’t see any muscles. And considering the spectacle she was making of herself, John figured she couldn’t be too smart. Her self preservation sucked. It was a wonder she managed to elude them.

He had half the mind to stroll up to her and tell her so.

The sound of her voice is what stopped him from jumping out of her when he stalked closer. It was soft and lilting, not exactly speaking--there wasn’t anyone around for miles for her words to be directed towards--she was singing. It was almost a whisper, but the tune was so recognizable.

It brought a smile to his lips. Made him briefly forget that less than 24 hours ago this woman was pitted against them, ready to arrest his brother.

“Oh John...Oh John. Bold and brave. He's finding us a family. He's teaching us to fend. Oh John... Oh John, keep us safe. He's gonna march us right through Eden's Gate. Oh Lord, he's gonna march us right through Eden's Gate.”

He laughed at what he heard, following three steps behind her, hidden in the trees to her left.

She paused in her footsteps, making his whole body lock up, afraid she had heard him. But her head was still down, and her lip was grabbed between sharp teeth in concentration. Her body swayed, close to losing her footing. She--Rook--he reminded himself--breathed in a deep lungful of air, that impish, pure smile falling back on her face when she regained her balance and could start up the second verse.

“Come mothers and come fathers. Come caring and come fierce. You've gotta see this for yourself if you can't believe your ears. The blessing just takes minutes, but it lasts a thousand years. Through holy water, there can be no tears.”

Now she was the one laughing, giggling at her own rendition of his song, which he could hear was slightly out of tune. The beat lagging behind what it should be. But for someone who had recently entered Hope County, he was impressed.

And of course, he was flattered.

With so many songs to choose from, she was singing his. The one that spoke of the baptist, the inquisitor, the one meant to save them all.

John hummed through the chorus as she sang it aloud. Still blissfully unaware of his presence. Now her head was up, hair flying in the breeze behind her, eyes--a mixture of blue and green from what he could see--was flickering past the scenery.

The guardrail she was using as a tightrope was coming to an end, he could see it up ahead. And he couldn’t help but realize just how close they were to his ranch. Right near the billboard he put up a lifetime ago with his face plastered on the front.

Would she be pleased to see his face in all that paint? Would she smile and laugh? Or would she be curious of who was really behind that dazzling smile?

Or maybe he was reading too much into this and she only liked music, not him or the meaning deep in those words.

John could still hold onto hope. Because he’s pretty sure he was in love.

He leaned on a tree as she hopped down, feet landing on the road with a soft thump. She readjusted the bag on her shoulders, collapsing down on the grass to lean against a tree, so near to him that he could see the light freckles dotting her cheeks.

“Come elders and come children. Come wisdom and come fire. You've gotta see how strong you'd be when you're free of all desire. A countryman of promise but you cannot trust the liar.  
You've gotta work and step into the choir.”

Her head fell back, basking in the sun and enjoying the peace. That’s when he stepped out into the light. He walked in front of her, blocking out the sun and creating a shadow over her that had her shuddering with the sudden chill. Her eyes snapped open, brows pulled down in momentary confusion.

She screamed. After all the admiration that spilled from her lips, she had the gall to scream in partial shock and terror.

Suddenly she was up close to him, on her feet in the blink of an eye to fucking hit him. Out of nowhere came a goddamn wooden baseball bat to smack him across the jaw. He landed on his ass, head knocking onto a rock with enough force to give him a concussion. All he heard was her running footsteps, probably creating a puff of dust with how quick she was leaving the scene.

All John could do was laugh. Fucking hell, yeah...he was in love


	45. Loving (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has always dreamed of having a loving wife and family of his own, and his eyes are on the Rook

John was a man of action.

A man of his word too. But when he held her close late that night in the depths of his bunker, a smile curving his lips up as he pressed wet kisses to her neck, telling her of how he’d make her his--she didn’t believe him.

It had been naive to think he wouldn’t come back to finish off his promise.

What had he said again? The whole day had been fuzzy from how tired she was. Though it was something about fucking her until she was raw, until she was leaking, absolutely dripping and unable to hold anything else he could give her. He’d keep her sated and by his side when she was round with his child.

He ranted about having a spawn of his own running around until she dozed off. When she woke, he was gone. And she had forgotten all about the strange encounter with him rubbing his blunt nails up and down her ribs.

Until now. Now, when he had come back three days later with a bright smile and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Standing in the doorway, blocking her in with the loud slam of metal against metal as locks clicked into place to keep her trapped.

He had a bag under his arm, something brown and dilapidated, like it had been thrown in a basement to be forgotten about for years. Pulled out at just the right moment for when he needed it. Which happened to be now, with him stalking closer and looming over her from where she sat on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest.

Even in her half curled up state with hesitation in her eyes, John wasn’t dissuaded. He disregarded the look of concern she gave him when he climbed onto the bed to join her, shushing her when she kicked out at him as a show of anger.

“Quell that feeling for now darling. Focus on me.”

She did as he asked, reminding herself idly that it was for nothing more than self preservation, needing to watch him carefully to see his next move.

That move happened to be his hands on his belt, he bit into his lip like he was nervous when he slid the leather out from the loops of his jeans. Up on his knees he managed to shuck off his pants, he wasn’t exactly hard, but she could tell he was getting there. Already aroused from whatever dirty images were playing in his head before he waltzed in late at night.

“You won’t fight me, will you Rook?” His eyes flicked down to her stomach, narrowing slightly, “This needs to happen, you must know that.” His tongue darted out to wet his chapped lips when he shuffled closer, hands already starting to fiddle with the buttons on his vest. “I’m not quite sure if you took my seed properly last time.”

An explanation in the sloppiest of forms. Telling her simply what scenarios he had planned to act out.

And he expected her to slip into the role of his wife and soon to be mother of a child she never asked for. No reason for her not to give him hell while he did it, because truthfully she knew she wouldn’t be able to fend him off for long, if at all.

He was shoving her down before she had a chance to react. Pushing onto her shoulders to hold her into place while he yanked off the rest of his clothes, leaving him bare and pressed too close to her.

John’s sharp breaths were the only thing she could pay attention to, he was panting into her ear as he fiddled with the silken ties he brought with him meant for tying her up and keeping her still. “I assumed you were carrying my child, we both did, but what if you aren’t?” He pulled back when he was done with her restraints. His eyes were blown wide with excitement. “I can’t take that chance.”

That was the only explanation he gave before pouncing on her. Clawing at her clothes and ripping through them with a shiny blade flecked with blood.

“Can I assume you’ll stay still?”

He looked innocent when he asked that question, a twinkle held in his eyes as he assessed her now bare body laid before him. The knife was thrown off to the side, clattering to the floor--too far for her to reach.

“And why should I?”

He smiled down at her, hands smoothing over her ribs. “I could tie you up, or get one of my men to hold you down.” He gasped, feigning shock, “Or, I could call Jacob and have him be the one to keep you still for me so I can breed you properly.” He kissed her when her eyes were wide, stealing her mouth to shove his tongue inside. When he broke away he was panting, “Can’t say for sure that he won’t join.”

John laughed, wrapping an arm around the small of her back to press their naked bodies together.

“Let me take care of you.”

And take care of her he did, he went slow. Surprisingly gentle when he pushed a hand between them to guide his cock between her folds. He slipped inside with little resistance, groaning fully when he was seated fully inside.

He kept quiet, save for the way he sighed as he rocked into her. Face falling slack as if he was in heaven. She wouldn’t doubt that’s how it felt when he buried his head into the crook of her neck to whisper out some prayer she couldn’t recognize.

“God, can you imagine how grand it’ll be once my seed takes? We’ll have to throw a party I imagine.”

There was a half smile on his face, playing around his lips and easing away the worry that usually held around his eyes. She figured that if she really loved this man that she would adore seeing how utterly at home he looked inside of her, arms still pulling them close and boxing her in.

“Seeing how well you take me, you can’t now say that this isn’t meant to be.”

“You’re sick.”

He leaned down, closer to her body until they were pressed flushed together. “Maybe. But you’re no better. Not with how you’re responding.”

He was right about that, she was clenching around him. Whining through her teeth with every push. She was sweating, keening into his touch, she liked it more than she could admit. He saw that in her eyes, it mirrored his own dreamy expression.

“Darling,” he mumbled out in a groan, biting at her neck, sinking in his teeth when he released inside of her. Shoving his pelvis against hers, not letting a drop escape. Reminding her with a tired smile on how there child would be so previously loved.


	46. Suppressants (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Involving alpha!John and omega!Rook. He notices her suppressants are wearing off and decides to keep her in his bunker for her own protection

“Don’t take this personally,” John’s finger thumbed over the button on the side of his radio, hardly used except for purposes such as this one, “But deputy, you fucking reek.”

At the silence that followed he was quick to amend himself, afraid he offended her. “Not like you smell awful, just...different. Different, and something else, something that’s not like yourself. You smell so strongly that I figured it must be your suppressants playing tricks on your body.”

It had been a week since John had Rook right where he wanted her. Seven days ago she was sitting helplessly tied to a chair deep in his bunker. He had smelt her faintly then, even if it wasn’t that strong. It was there, no matter how subtle.

Someone’s drugs were wearing off it seemed. That would explain her sudden disappearance, falling off everyone’s radar. If she wasn’t tucked away somewhere indulging in sin to fend off those feelings Mother Nature granted her, then she was at least doing it for her own safety.

“You know how dangerous it is all alone in Hope County? You’re unmated, I gleaned that much from you. Surely you know what that entails. People can get crazy with all those hormones.”

“Leave me be John. Let me die in peace.”

“Rook? What? Are you--where are you? Do you need--”

Rook chuckled dryly. “Calm down, m’not actually dying. Just feel like it. Everything’s hot. Like fire.” There was a thoughtful pause before she continued. “My cunt is fucking throbbing. Got any suggestions, ye old faithful baptist?”

“Besides turning your back on God while you touch yourself?”

John leaned back in his chair, head tipped towards the heavens as if He would spread the clouds and give him an answer. For fuck’s sake he’s never had to really deal with this, not with women anyhow, people usually asked The Father when their heats descended upon them.

“Ice?”

“Excuse me?”

“Perhaps…” He cleared his throat, “Ice would cool you down.”

“You want me to stick ice inside my vagina.”

He hid a laugh in the sleeve of his jacket, humming a yes when his throat closed up on him. That wasn’t really what he meant to say, but the image was humourous enough.

“I’d rather be fucked.” Rook concluded, clicking off her side of the radio to do God knows what with her down time.

John didn’t feel any better after that conversation. He knew she was safe somewhere, that she was relatively okay. But still unmated. That didn’t sit well with him. It had him tossing and turning all night, worried someone else would get to her, hurt her badly and do something she didn’t want.

The people in Hope County were sinners. He had a feeling that with everyone’s heats closing in on them, they’d be more than okay with forcing themselves inside someone who wasn’t mated.

He sent a capture party out for her the very next day.

He trusted no one else but himself to keep her safe, that’s the explanation he used. She called him all sorts of things when the bliss was gone from her system, the one that stuck with him was when she threw a book at his head and shouted out how greedy he was.

She wasn’t wrong; he atoned in front of her. Went to where she had her own cell inside his bunker to show her how he cut into his ribs, making diagonal stripes and underlining the word of greed on his thigh.

He smelt her apprehension. He was sure he smelt something else too, arousal in the purest of forms.

“You’re lucky you’re here deputy, you should see how my men are off their game from having you so near to them. I slept in the control room over,” He jerked his head to the opposite wall, indicating what was on the other side. “I’m not sure how safe you are. Even with me.”

He buttoned his pants back up, hiding his bloody thigh, moving to pull his shirt down, knowing that it’d take forever to get wash out the stains.

“I could fix that problem--”

“Doesn’t sound like that much of a problem to me. You’re keeping them at bay.”

John shook his head, anger shining through for a brief moment. “And for how long? How long do these pleasantries last until I let go of those dogs’ leashes? Maybe I’ll give them permission, or maybe I’ll just forget to lock the door.”

Rook’s scent swelled out, as if that would be enough to convince him not to carry out those kind of threats. It did something though, had the tension in his shoulders ebbing away.

He turned away from her, hands shoved in his jeans front pockets. “Deputy, do think about what I’ve said. I only want you to be safe. That’s why you’re here, but without a mate, there’s always some level of danger.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment as he stepped out. “I won’t be there to protect you every single day.”

*****

Joseph said her sin was pride when he visited, requesting just that once that he spoke to her alone. John would be lying if he said he didn’t try to listen. Pushing his ear against the wall, body held up with his knees on an old, plush chair.

He thought he heard Rook crying. He definitely smelt a myriad of things. Anger and sadness, a smell that turned something so sweet into something sour.

She wasn’t his mate, and yet he was rearing to go save her from a situation that she thought was dangerous. He wasn’t too sure what Joseph told her--he was only in her cell for five minutes--but when he replaced Joseph’s spot, Rook was on him. Hugging him, a faraway look in her eyes that made his heart clench.

She was pressing her body into his side, shoving her scent his way like she wanted them to meld into one.

That was a good idea.

John’s cock thought so too. It was a hard heavy line that, if she noticed, she had the decency to ignore when she pulled him in tighter around his neck.

“You think I’m still at risk, John?” She glanced up at him with wide eyes rimmed with tears. “I don’t want just anyone to be my mate. I always thought I got to make that choice, and now…” She shook her head violently, shoving her cheek against his chest. “Did you know what Joseph wanted me to do?”

John mumbled a no, a twinge of sympathy reaching out for how shaken she seemed with a simple five minute conversation from his brother.

“He wanted to fuck me. He almost mated me, he was so close to doing it, I could see it in his eyes. How much he wanted it. He said it’d get rid of my pride.”

“I won’t--You don’t have to--”

She shushed him. Pressed a finger to his lips to silence his words. “I know you want that too. Just waiting on you now.” She kissed him, a simple brush of their lips that was as much of a yes as he needed.


	47. Ceasefire (NFSW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deputy is asked to spend a night with John in order to cause a ceasefire

She wasn’t even aware the mail service was still up and running. You know, with the fact that Hope County was in fact a very real and hostile war zone. And yet Addie had grabbed her attention before she could head out, sporting a skeptical glance directed her way with a few choice words of not hiding any secrets from ‘aunty Addie’ before thrusting an envelope into her palms.

The white material of it was fancy. Expensive too. Something that cost more than her whole outfit. And somehow that made Rook want to toss the damn thing in the river. But fuck, whoever had access to the postal system and could somehow manage to get their letter to her was the kind of person Rook wanted to get to know. Connections were important.

She tore through the envelope, allowing room for a silken, coffee colored letter to fall into her lap. It was folded neatly, smelling sweetly of a scent that didn’t belong in her humid, dirty car, cradled in hands caked with dry blood.

It was typed, not handwritten, making a strange giddiness swell inside her. Since when did she become so important?

_Dear Rook,_

_It has come to my attention, as well as the attention of my brothers and sister, that winter is fast approaching. To be frank with you, none of us are prepared. It’s embarrassing, to be so ill prepared. Too preoccupied with other things as to not realize the seasons changing. Remember that this is why I’m putting up this offer. Because I wanted put something on the table, a ceasefire perhaps, something not given lightly. But I’m already concerned about our people and how slowed down our resource gathering will become in the next two months, I figured we could strike up a deal._

_One night with you is all I ask. A night in bed._

_The ball is in your court deputy, think hard about what your next move it._

A ceasefire.

A fucking ceasefire. With so many strings attached. Now the idea of tossing this damn letter out the window sounded fantastic considering what laid inside. She should let it get buried in the snow that had begun to fall when her head was down, busy reading the sorry excuse of a peace treaty John had delivered right into her arms.

Turns out this wasn’t the kind of man she wanted to have connections with. Not in the slightest. At least not under normal circumstances. But fuck, he was right. Winter was coming, and coming fast. Faster than any of them had anticipated. So fucking fast that even Eden’s Gate wasn’t ready for the potential of them being caught off guard and unable to carry out whatever they had planned for the following weeks.

And if they couldn’t handle the impending weather, then there’s a good chance the resistance wouldn’t fare too well either.

She groaned at the thought at what he was even thinking of doing with her, on what he wanted in return. A snarl rose from her lips when she tossed her head back. Her hands, already feeling frozen from the chill outside, reached for her radio. She fumbled with the frequency.

“John.” She swallowed thickly around her next set of words. Breathing in deep to try and compose herself. “Got your letter.”

“Ah, deputy. Have you? Quicker than I thought it’d arrive.” He admitted softly. “But I’m pleased to hear back from you. I’m assuming you’ve had the chance to think over my offer, to discuss it amongst your friends.”

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Maybe she should have consulted someone. She wasn’t about to let him know how rash her decision making had been. So she lied, like a fool. “I have John. I have. It’s tempting to say yes this time around.”

He hummed at her words, at the implication it gave. “Tempted to say yes, and simply saying it, my dear, are two different things. One outcome is more preferable.”

She snorted. Finger trailing on the frosty window to draw swirly patterns. “To you maybe. You’ll be getting a lot out of it, not facing as much risk as I would sleeping with a man whose been around the block, so I’ve heard.”

“I’m clean!” He snarled, making her laugh out loud this time. “I am, Rook. I need this.”

“Yeah? Need? Not want. How long as it been since you’ve fucked someone? Or since someone’s fucked you? Dunno how you like it.”

He sputtered for an answer, all choices seeming sinful. “If you accept my offer, I intend to keep you under my thumb, not the other way around.”

Her eyes slipped shut in contemplation. It was one month. One month where no one had to worry about being shot at. People could walk outside and smell the flowers for once, enjoy the view Montana offered. That was valuable down time that everyone needed. Her included. She knew she’d get shit for not jumping on this chance by at least one of her friends. Probably Sharky...or Addie.

“Fine.”

“Fine? As in yes? You’ll do it?”

“God, yes. Yes John. I’ll come over now, for one night. One night only, and we’ll have ourselves a ceasefire for two months, well until winter has blown over.”

She could practically hear John’s smile when he gave directions to his ranch. Chirping into his radio that he’d be waiting.

Smug bastard.

*****

The place was warm at least. Inviting too. Better than where she was holed up with a tattered blanket to keep her cozy. John--bless his heart--had a fucking heated blanket. It was keeping her rooted to his couch, so close to falling asleep from the warmth. She would have too, if John wasn’t a petty child who demanded attention right then and there.

He kicked at her ankle, digging his fingers into her shoulders and shaking.

“Have you forgotten our agreement?”

Her lips pulled down in an instant, she sneered at him, reaching up to grab a fistful of his jacket to yank him down next to her.

“Stop being such a whiny little bitch.”

He sunk into her side, forcing their bodies together until he could press kisses into her neck. “If you’re so cold, dear, I’d be happy to lend you my shower.”

That had her moving, pulling him along by his hand because his house was ridiculously large with too many rooms for only one person.

The thing was—as amazing as his bathroom turned out to be, with perfect water pressure—he forgot to mention that he’d be joining her.

“I don’t remember this being a part of the deal.” Her words ended off with a choked out groan when his hands tangled into her hair, scrubbing shampoo around like he’s done it a million times before. He stepped closer when she leaned back, accepting her weight and not at all ashamed of how she could feel every inch of his body against hers.

Besides, if everything worked out like it was supposed to and their ceasefire was going to take place as intended, they’d know each other intimately by the time the night was over.

“Well...I tried not to be too specific. I wanted some wiggle room.”

“Fucking lawyers.”  
  
“Yeah? Would you like to? Wanna do it here?” His hands moved away from her hair, sliding down her hips, turning her abruptly to jam her against a wall. “Such a dirty girl.” He growled in her ear, grabbing his cock in his hand to slide between her cheeks. “What would the resistance think?” John gasped, feigning shock as her hands pressed flat to the wall to gain leverage, a pitiful attempt to shake him off.

“I’m not in college anymore, John. No way am I having shower sex.”

When she turned to him, her breasts brushing along his chest, he was pouting. Tilting his head to the side with a sigh. “Fine. Fine then,” His hand shot out to move the curtain, uncaring about the water spilling onto the floor. “Lead the way.”

John was on her by the time they entered his bedroom. His hands found her shoulders to shove her on his mattress. Then he was on top of her before she could react. Bracketing her in with his body.

His teeth were sharp, hands greedy in a way that made her squirm. She bit her tongue, kept herself silence. Not willing to give something up that easily when it would only inflate his ego. He didn’t need that. Didn’t deserve it either. If he wanted to hear her moan, he’d work for it.

John’s eyes fluttered up to hers briefly when he pulled back. She thought she saw a flicker of annoyance hidden there. “What? Not good enough Rook?” She stayed silent, shaking her head in disbelief. If he noticed that, he didn’t say anything.

His bites became softer, turned into something that would form bruises as he sucked her skin into his mouth. That made it more difficult to keep her mouth shut when she felt a slow rise of heat bloom in her stomach. She wiggled her hips, hands tightening in the bedsheets. 

Both of which he noticed.

“That better not be Pride I spy.”

“And if it is?” She smiled up at him, a cheshire cat grin. 

John grinded down into her, his cock sliding against her folds, which were shamelessly slick. He placed a hand over her eyes, scrambling with uncoordinated fingers to grab at something. A second later and he was kissing her. Shoving his tongue past her lips when she gasped from the surprise. His tongue danced along, a force to keep her focused on that and not the sudden press of metal on her lower stomach.

“I’ve got my ways, Rook. Now flip over, show me something sweet.” He goaded her gently. Like he wasn’t seconds away from cutting into her flesh.

She listened when his hands went away from her eyes to squeeze at her hip. Indicating how she should lay. Her ass was coaxed into the air, a hand sliding down one cheek, moving in between to spread her.

“Where can I fuck you?”

“You should know the answer to that.”

His pointer finger prodded at her hole. Which, unsurprisingly, didn’t accept his digit.

“John!” Her legs kicked out angrily. Landing on his hip bone, almost moving in for a second hit, stopped when he grabbed her foot. Pressing in his nails to her heel.

“Yes? Did I misinterpret that?”

Rook huffed a laugh despite the situation. Shoving her head further in the pillow as he shuffled in closer on his knees.

His hand remained on her ass, cupped carefully around her flesh while he explore her. Moving to slip _downdowndown_ until he could cover her cunt. His finger stroked back and forth. Running over her clit with ease, dipping lower to plunge inside.

She bit her lip at the feeling. His fingers weren’t thick, but they were larger than hers. More satisfying then those nights alone remembering her past lovers. They made her feel more full. They stretched her more when he added a second finger, hissing in tandem with her as if he was just as effected. 

“Never imagined you this tight.”

“M’not a slut.”

“Never said that, lust can be dangerous though. And toys can get the job done, no?”

Her back arched off the bed. Legs spreading wider around his waist, offering more with closed eyes. Still unwilling to see his smugness if she dared to glance over her shoulder. “Look at me, deputy. Please, look at me.” He blanketed her body with his own, making her collapse flat on the bed, forcing his fingers deeper.

He teased another around her entrance. She wasn’t sure she could take a third. She told him that, a whine in her voice. “Darling, my cock’s bigger than two fingers. I’m not the kind of man who would ever want to wish my partner pain during sex.”

She cringed at his words, at how utterly correct he was. Rook wiggled back into him, a murmur of “go ahead,” slipping free. 

“Good. Good girl, god, look how you take me.” Another finger, scissoring, stretching her wide. Making it burn where it felt right. Then he was slipping out, pulling away his heat and leaving her bereft. Her head did turn then, searching for where he went. Hands falling behind her to grapple him near with a gentle touch on his hip.

He was knocked down off his knees, staggered off balance from his knees, losing grip of the condom he had in hand.

“Don’t need that.”

“I don’t need to explain to you why condoms are used, do I?”

Rook flipped on her back, cupping one hand on the back of his neck. Another grabbing at his hand to her bicep. “Birth control. You said you’re clean?”

He nodded fast, a jerking motion that made him look disoriented for a moment. He was moving quick, spreading her legs, making them go up until they were draped over his shoulders. His cock nudged at her entrance, pressed in with a roll of his hips.

He wasn’t the largest she’s ever taken. But he was big, making her wince. Another thing he noticed, he soothed away her pain--maybe as a sorry--to lay a kiss to her temple. Trailing down as he made his way to her lips, much softer than before, then to her neck. Kissing at the bruises that were already forming in the darkness.

“Be good deputy, temper yourself for once in your wild life.”

The sharp thrusts of his hips were quite the juxtaposition for the order he gave her. It was rough, a steady motion that was rocking the bed, shifting them closer together until there was no longer an inch of space left between them.

She clung to him, grabbed at his shoulder as she cried out. Whimpered when the angle only proved to push him all the more deeper. Her nails raked down his back, created blood red tracks in their wake that would give him something to remember her by.

“Fucking hell!” He jammed into her deeper, went faster. Maybe as punishment for the scratches. “Always so wrathful, my God.”

He laughed, letting his head hang forward, resting his cheek against her breasts a second later. He popped her nippled in his mouth, tugging harshly. Making her legs squirm from the muscles burning.

“Payback’s a bitch, sweetheart. So’s karma.” His words were slurred, intercepted with her flesh in his mouth. “Thought a good fuck would take the wrath out of both of us.”

“Is it working for you?”

He pulled back, moving her legs to wrap around his waist. Hands cupping the sides of her face. “Jury’s still out on that one. As for you, I’d say a few more trial runs--”

“Also not in the letter you sent.”

He smiled wide, it faltered slightly when he came a second later. Hips stuttering as his fingers stumbled between her folds. Rubbing fast and quick until she was crying out his name again an again. Eyes slammed shut when her cunt grabbed around his cock tightly.

“It wouldn’t be selfish. I’m only trying to save your soul, Rook. If fucking you is how it has to work, then so be it.”


	48. Arachnophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While escaping from John's Bunker an arachnophobic deputy runs into a spider

She had been doing pretty well, avoiding John’s men through the tight hallways of his bunker as she made what she considered to be her Great Escape. She was quiet, slow moving and agile. To be honest she was proud of the progress she was making, close to getting out actually. The stairs should be right in front of her soon, maybe another corner to turn and she’d be caught up with John, perhaps make it to him before he had a chance to lock Hudson back up.

Whatever the case may be, her confession wasn’t happening. She was getting the fuck out of here.

That was her thought process as she rounded another corner, twirling on her heel with a squeak coming from her shoes. Then she stopped dead in her tracks, windmilling her arms to stop herself from falling flat on her face from the sudden movement.

She came close to dying so many times since met the man who ran Holland Valley. And she counted this amongst the top five. Because less than three feet from her, sitting right on the ground, flanked on all sides by overstocked ammo crates, was the largest spider she’s ever seen. Something pulled right out of National Geographic. It was a hellspawn belonging in the Australian outback, not Hope County, Montana.

Rook screamed. She took a step back and screamed out of pure instinct as if she wasn’t being hunted down to be dragged back the way she came. In that moment, she couldn’t say she cared. Not when she was in danger of being eaten alive by a mutant spider.

It moved, it’s feet scuttling on the cement, and it echoed terribly loud. It was so damn large that it’s spindly legs reverberated through the halls for what she assumed was miles. That had her backing up until she was pressed into a corner, which really wasn’t smart since it was coming towards her. Slowly, yes, but making it’s way in her direction nonetheless.

Probably to nibble at her face.

“John!”

Later, she might regret calling out for his help. But in her mind, she figured she wouldn’t even live to regret such a thing if she stayed silent. So she called for help, she yelled his name more times then she could count, hunching her shoulders in on herself with one leg pulled up from the ground, praying she wouldn’t lose balance to make her level with a demon spider.

When John did appear, running, sprinting because she screamed bloody murder and he heard the fear in her voice--fear he’s never heard before--he was flushed, mouth open to ask questions. Probably expecting someone else to be in the corridor besides her and a spider.

From how he stood stock still, she assumed he just didn’t understand how dire this situation was.

“Deputy.” He regarded her cooly, nodding to her with hands on his hips. “Pleasure seeing you haven’t left just yet.” He hesitated when he smiled, head tipped to the side, still confused.

“Help. For once in your life, I’m begging you, help me.”

“I--I don’t--What am I meant to do?”

She literally snarled at him. Ducking her head, tucking it closer to the wall when tears began to spill out. This was fear in its rawest form, he saw that now. He noticed it when she whimpered, body trembling when her eyes flicked to the ground. He followed her gaze, close to laughing at what she was so scared of. Then he heard a sob catch in her throat and all he felt was a wave of pity.

“Please.”

He rolled up the sleeves, acting like this was the heavy duty job she thought it was “Since you asked nicely.” Really he would have done it either way, whether she was polite or cursed him to hell and back. He understood fear, and he knew that it was exactly that feeling that had her calling for him and not her letting go of the pride he swore she had. And if he wanted to be cruel, he could leave her there, maybe pull a confession out that way. But a certain man once said something special about love. This was as close as John could get.

It was squashed under John’s foot, dead in an instant. Not smart enough to run away from his weight. John made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, well aware of the blood on the sole of his expensive shoe that smeared across the floor.

At the same time Rook sunk to the floor with a cry slipping free from her lips. Her legs crumpled, making her slam down as she curled into the fetal position. From the way her shoulders shook, he knew she was crying, despite how quiet she was trying to be.

“Rook?”

The lack of response legitimately worried him. That and the way she sounded close to hyperventilating.

“Rook, look at me.”

If anything, she curled further in on herself. Pressing closer to the wall when he crouched down by her side.

John reached out to brush along her shoulder. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down her spine. Over the ridges of her ribs and smoothing over the nape of her neck. His fingers stayed there, bold enough to pull her back to finally force their eyes together.

“You’re safe, right here, nothing’s wrong.”

She hiccuped in response, suddenly coming back to herself, realizing how close John was. Realizing the danger she was presented with, with him boxing her in.

“I don’t like that look in your eyes, Rook.”

She blinked at him, shoving at his arm until he let it drop to the floor. “What look?”

“Like you’re not with me. Not....here.” He snapped once in front of her face, sighing when she jolted. “Come on.” Suddenly he was pulling her up, lifting her up off the ground with gentle hands under her arms. She swayed when she stood, face drawn and haggard.

Rook collected herself quickly when she saw how closely John was watching her. “We don’t speak of this.” She shook her finger in his face, taking a step closer until their noses brushed. He flinched at the contact, just as vulnerable as she had been a second ago.

His eyes were blown wide, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. Realizing who she was because of a fucking spider. When she finally managed to push past him, John let her leave.

And he laughed. Years from now, when she saw their side of things, he hoped to remind her that they bonded over her hidden arachnophobia. He’d tell her that fate is what made such a creature appear in her path just so they could connect. When in reality his bunker had a serious infestation of an awful combination of spiders and mice that he was yet to tell Joseph about.

She didn’t need to know that part though.


	49. Perfect Fit pt 1 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Seed fucking Rook while she's blissed out in front of his mirror, forcing her to see how good they look together

“Would this gift not be better suited for The Father?”

Faith twirled around the base level of his ranch. Running her dainty hands along his shelves, her index finger trailing over pictures of his brothers. She spun on bare feet to face him, a soft innocent smile stretching her lips. “At our last meeting, correct me if I’m wrong, you sounded like you wanted her. You sounded mad. It was only you who pointed out how unfair it was.”

“Yeah.” John shrugged, defensive suddenly. Eyes moving to where Rook lied keeled over on her side, face pressed into his leather couch, hair obscuring the milky film her eyes would show from the amount of bliss Faith gave her. “She hasn't confessed yet. It doesn’t seem proper for her to get a ticket right to The Father. No one else would have that right.

Her arms crossed over her chest suddenly, innocent smile replaced with a smug one. “I’m not arguing with you. I trust your judgement.” Faith walked around John, a hand dancing along his shoulder blades as she made her way towards Rook. She crouched down, pushing back her hair to blow another puff of bliss in her face.

That had John biting his cheek out of annoyance. He didn’t need her turning into an angel.

“Call me when you’re done with her. Take your time, Joseph isn’t aware of this.”

Left alone with the object of his affections, how did he expect it to go? How did his sister expect events to unfold? It was bound to be sinful. Not much of an excuse, but one he could live with for now.

She was limp against his body, curling into him as much as she could as he walked. Pulling her with him up the stairs, into his bathroom until she was slumped on the sink. Stomach cutting into the porcelain, head lolling forward.

He knew she couldn’t see straight, that even though her eyes were wide open, tracking his blurry form in the mirror, she didn’t know it was him. She couldn’t have known, going by how she didn’t recoil when he stepped in closer.

She continued watching him with a wide eyed stare as he draped his body over her own. Pressed his weight on her so he could feel the heat she gave off, despite being waterlogged, probably coming from her drunken like stupor she endured with Faith.

“You’re soaked, Rook. We should--you need to let me help you undress.” He made her stand straight, her front still turned towards his mirror, towards the sink in case she fell. He watched his fingers in the reflection, saw how she watched them too with a dropped head. Bobbing up and down like she was about to nod off.

“I’ll get you warm.”

If she heard him, or knew any of the implications floating around from the moment Faith delivered in his arms, she didn’t show it. She just blinked at him with doe eyes. Still unseeing, more aware though. Realizing that she was in a cozy bathroom, and freezing. Because suddenly she was encouraging his hands along. Tearing at her clothing like she couldn’t wait to be rid of them, as if the wet fabric clinging to her skin was too much to bear.

Her squirming helped him along, shoulders shrugging in quick, jerking movements until she was left in her bra. He made short work of that, deftly popping the clasp until it could fall to the floor. Allowing her breasts to spill free with a soft bounce.

Her nipples were already hard, pointing outward from the chill. Staying that way from how he ran his fingers past them both a second later. He pushed into the curve of her back, shoving his interested cock against her ass.

He could almost fool himself that she wanted this with the look she shot him from the mirror. Full of something he couldn’t identify through her blissed eyes.

It was enough to make him start working on her jeans just as quickly. Another ploy to get warm, ample excuse to rub his hands up and down her thighs. He kicked her legs apart to move across her inner thighs. Stroking cold flesh until she wasn’t shivering and he thought she was leaning into his touch.

“Look at us, sweetheart.” The bliss couldn’t have been that strong, because she heard his request, doing as he asked. Head tipping up slightly to view the both of them in the mirror. A frown was tugging her lips down when she saw him half obscured by the way he bent down to touch her. “Don’t we make a perfect match?”

He kissed her left ass cheek. Held onto her hips as he stood, keeping her in place as he worked at his belt. “You don’t believe me.” He whispered into the shell of her ear, nipping at her neck to accentuate his point. Focusing solely on how she still looked like she was unsure.

“I can show you.”

He didn’t have time to go slow. Not when Rook was being tracked by Eden’s Gates’ best. Men supposed to report back to the Heralds’ region she was in, she had a penchant for a chaos. It was John’s idea at the time. Now it was biting him in the ass, because he couldn’t enjoy what would probably be his only time with the infamous deputy, and Joseph would soon be asking where she was.

She always made herself known. Every few hours something was going wrong and she was at the helm of it all. It’d be quiet and people would get antsy. His brothers and sister would be scrambling to find her, worried she was planning something big they wouldn’t be able to stop, meanwhile John would be fucking her raw against the sink.

John breathed out an uneasy sigh, raking a hand through her hair to push it to the side, revealing more of her face to him.

“Darling, just let me,” his cock was out, jeans only pulled halfway down--getting stuck at his thighs--biting painfully into his skin. “You only need to watch. To bear witness to what we are.”

There was no need to be gentle. The bliss would make all pain mute, including that of how she stretched around him. Wrapping tightly and making his view become hazy. It had been too long.

“There, now doesn’t that feel good?”

“M’not--you--”

“Shush, look there. See?” He held her in a choke hold, wrapped a forearm across her neck until all she could stare at was their reflection. Just the steady image of them rocking against the porcelain. The sink hid the sin going on beneath their hips. The mirror wasn’t long enough to show his cock sliding steadily in and out of her. It hid how his free hand gripped her hips for leverage. Forming bruises she would find tomorrow with no memory of how they got there.

He liked that thought. That after this was said and done and she only had foggy remnants of what might have happened, there was a chance she’d call him. Wrath in her voice, pointing a finger at him and his need for causing others pain, not realizing it ran so much deeper than that.

His next couple of thrusts were more forceful. It made him sink in deeper, it caused her spine to arch. Whether in pleasure or pain, he wasn’t sure. He might’ve felt sorry if his fast actions didn’t elicit a groan from her. And yet…

Then she was greedily moving back into him. Like a switch flipped. Her eyes were wide, searching his face, watching how he became unraveled seated inside her.

John laughed, tucking his nose against the crown of her hair, “You see it now, don’t you? You like this darling. Let me hear that again.” He kicked at her ankles with swift movements--as if they’ve done this so many times before--forcing her legs apart so he could reach around between her folds. His index finger set to work, rubbing across her clit with ease. Gently stoking a fire that made her legs tremble.

The arm around her neck pulled away to wrap around her waist as she leaned all her weight into him, dropping back, trusting only him holding her up. “God we work so well together. And I’m gonna make you sing for me.” The next snap of his hips had him hissing as she tightened around him.

She was cumming a second later, a keen lifting up from her throat as she squirmed, looking to get away from the oversensitivity. She bucked back into him, a yelp sounding out as her orgasm washed through her, spurred on by the rough timbre of his voice and the finger circling between her legs.

He stepped away before he could finish inside her, pulling out to shoot over the plump swell of her ass. Letting her fall to her knees. Another bruise to add to the pile. He tucked himself back inside, wincing at the sensitive scrape of his cockhead against his jeans. His hand tangled in her hair, patting her like a dog. He moved down to her jaw, tipping her chin up forcefully despite her low whine so their eyes could meet. “Wish I could keep you for a few more weeks, darling. We deserve each other, hard to deny that now. Alas,” He sighed dramatically, pulling away to grab at his cell phone forgotten about on his dresser in his room.

“Faith.” John plopped back on his bed, eyes tracking Rook’s naked form in the bathroom, struggle--and fail--to get to her feet. “Pick up for you. Come take your gift back.”

“Wha--? Was it not of your liking...”

“Hm?” His brows furrowed, chin jutting out definitely at the accusation, “She did great. Why?”

“Nothing.” She giggled that sweet fairy like laugh, as if she was still that frivolous teenager brought into their fold and not a woman in her early twenties. “Oh, It was quick, that’s all brother.”

“Faith, I swear to The Father himself.” John seethed, eyes clenching, popping back open when he heard Rook fall, bringing down a towel rack with her. “Just come get her before we both get in trouble.”

His sister chirped back something he didn’t listen to. She laughed once more before the line went dead. When he glanced back at Rook, he saw her uncoordinated limbs dragging her along the floor. Towards him. That made him smile, wiping his mind clear from what Faith just said about his supposed inadequacy. He rose with a grunt to reach her. Immediately smoothing a hand over her head.

“Until we meet again Rook. I look forward to next time.”


	50. Unfair Relations (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s reaction to Rook becoming an item with Sharky

What did that man have that John didn’t? Surely not class, for John was dressed in the finest of clothes that cost as much as the working man’s car. Definitely not a proper home. Because John had acres of property under his command, even a beautifully crafted ranch fit for the scenery overlooking his valley.

He had money and looks and smarts.

Charlemagne Boshaw didn’t have shit. He had a fucking flamethrower used for the express purpose of ruining everything John worked so hard for, but that was about it. He just couldn’t understand the appeal. Why did Rook go running to him at the slightest beck and call? Perhaps it was his blind loyalty, where John saw Boshaw act the same way, following her around with a dopey smile on his face.

John figured she had a thing for sinners. That had to be it. Because every single time John sent out his men to track them, they were committing the most heinous of crimes. They would be lounging on the very edge of a dock, nursing bottles of beer. Smoking weed in the middle of a fucking field, shrieking with laughter.

Sinners made Rook croon.

If that’s what she wanted, then he could give it to her. He dealt with heretics whose souls were seconds away from being bound to the fiery pits of hell, it should be easy to put on a show.

It’s not like he changed his clothes or muddied up his face, those were his best attributes! No, no, it all laid in his actions. And catching her at the right moment. Making sure she was alone, he didn’t need the competition Boshaw offered.

When he did approach her, skirting around the edge of the forest with cautious steps, his Rook was already indulging in the luxuries life offered. It shouldn’t have surprised him at this point, but he still sneered when he saw her there, glossy eyes and a decked out revolver held loosely in her hand. Her legs dangled off the arm of the lawn chair she sat in, because low and behold, as drunk as she was, she couldn’t sit in the chair properly. Sprawling across it sideways with her head fallen all the way back.

John couldn’t help but think she’d get an awful knot in her neck if she didn’t move soon.

It wasn’t much of a challenge to approach her. Especially considering how she noticed him as soon as he stepped away from the cover of the trees. Her head turned with a disinterested pace. Cloudy eyes tracking him as he walked towards her.

“Mind sharing?” He gestured towards the beer bottle she was holding loosely. Before she could answer he snatched it from her, having to bite his lip to avoid laughing at the slow way she looked between him and her now empty hand.

“Didn’t say yes.”

“You didn’t say no either.” John shrugged, pressing his lips to the rim to take down a swig. “I’m impatient.” He hid his wince well under her probing gaze. The alcohol burned all the way down. Searing a trail of fire in its path. It had been too long since he tasted beer as cheap as the one she had. His own office was filled with fancy wines, something fit for a guy of his caliber.

She was still watching him by the time he regained his composure. Eyes narrowed and suspicious.

“Are you gonna make me kill you?”

“Wha—I don’t—“

“Because I’m too drunk for that. And high. And tired. Just don’t make me kill you tonight.”

He nodded once, as if they were sealing a deal. Then, as if just realizing what she said, his eyebrows rose, “You’re high? You must have something on you still. Something to share perhaps.”

Rook snorted, undignified as she raked her eyes down his body. Judging him from head to toe before she dug into her pocket. Her face scrunched up at the amount of concentration that required before producing a tiny baggie.

A status symbol from John’s past. But probably not as expensive as what he was used to. It didn’t matter, weed was weed right?

Except it wasn’t. Not really. The first drag he took made his eyes burn and had his lungs contract painfully. Rook laughed at him, leaning to snag back her beer, dangerously close to falling. And she would have too, if her forearm hadn’t been braced on the meat of his thigh.

It was a quick touch, something she’s done with friends countless time for the action to be an instinct. Her arm was unjustly pulled away as soon as she could fall back comfortably in her chair. But it had John's head spinning nonetheless. More so than the cheap beer and shitty weed.

“First time?” Her face was one of mirth, an unabashed smile making her features light up as she eyed the blunt he was holding.

There was a swell of anger that made it hard to breathe for a second. Then she was giggling. Shaking her head just to finish off the drink she had. “Kidding Johnny, kidding. Everyone knows you used to be a wild child.”

John wanted to shove that title in her face. Make her see for herself what it meant to be a ‘wild child.’ Maybe give her a story to tell her friends. And that was a thought, wasn’t it? One that made John’s jeans tighten.

A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Rook considering he was still standing.

“You’re one of those guys, huh? So what did it, the booze or weed?”

“It’s just been a while—“

She hummed, a teasing light shining in her eyes. “I bet. Not so wild anymore than, guess Joseph really does have you on a fucking leash.”

He had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to know she thought that. It sounded like something said between friends who harbored hatred for him, like he had walked in on the middle of a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear.

Once again, there was anger. But she was smiling still, easy and relaxed despite being inches away from him.

John smiled back at her, put all his charm into it as he fell down to rest on his knees, his hand holding tight to her shoulder. Feigning the effects he knew would come with a belly full of alcohol and drugs coursing through his veins.

“That’s not true.” His words slurred on completely his own accord. Done so well he almost convinced himself. “Don’t speak about me like I’m some kind of domesticated pet.” He pointed in her face, gesturing with his hand that still held the blunt. And Rook simply chuckled, leaning forward—into his touch—to take a drag herself. She breathed out, directing the smoke into his face.

“Dunno.” There was that smile again, teasing and so not meant for an enemy like him. She reached out, less than an inch of space between them, to tug at his hair. She twirled a strand round and round until it naturally curled when she let go. She watched it bounce into his eyes. “Had a bet goin’ with a couple of friends.”

John didn’t take the bait. Just bit down on his lip out of anger. He didn’t need to hear about her so called friends, who were uncaring enough to let her get wasted all alone without any protection. “I’m assuming it has something to do with how wild I am.”

She tapped his nose playfully, finger drawing down the bridge and along his jaw. She wound up tugging at his ear, dangerously close to ripping his earing out. “Mhm.”

“Would you like a demonstration? Maybe settle that bet.”

Rook seemed to stick out her lower lip in concentration at his words. But it was impossible to tell in the fading light. She sat properly, swinging her legs around to toss the beer bottle somewhere in the tall grass around them. She gestured with her hands, as if to tell him to hurry on and do whatever it was he was planning. “Go for it. If you’re still as crazy as you once were, you’ll be making me some money.”

John was more than happy to oblige. His eyes lit up at the opportunity she handed to him. Not like she had much time to read into his charming smile, because suddenly he was straddling her. One hand braced on her shoulder as a ploy to make it seem like he was worried about falling off her lap--which in turn brought her hand down on his hip to help steady him. His other hand stole the blunt back, raising it to his lips for another drag. It was easier the next time around, his body relearning all that he tried to forget.

Joseph would be happy to hear about how willing the deputy was to accept him. John would simply lie about the methods in which he used to draw her closer to him.

“Wanna try something?”

She hummed, head lolling back to watch him, squinting despite the lack of sun. “That’s why you’re here.” She nodded weakly down to where their hips were aligned, insinuating that if the circumstances weren’t as glorious as the prospect of easy cash, she’d be stabbing him.

John just laughed, curling in on himself to make himself look smaller. Like he was nervous, as if she was still the one in control even with all the drugs and alcohol. He went as far as to make his hands shake as he took another drag, feigning all that pent up energy someone in his position might have.

He bent down to reach her lips, fingers digging into her shoulder as a reminder when she didn’t close the last of the distance between them.

He can’t remember the last time he’s done this. But it was stupidly intimate, more so than he ever recalled. Maybe that was because all those who were willing participants of this in his past were nameless, to be replaced come next week. This was different. He wanted this, he wanted to have her, to claim her if only to satiate his envy.

John couldn’t tell if she had experience with what he was doing. The way she fumbled to make their lips meet could be the alcohol, or maybe she was actually nervous. Scared he’d turn on her? Or excited? He wasn’t about to ask. Not when she was the one who breathed in the smoke he blew into her mouth then eagerly turned her head to dive in for a kiss.

John was greedy, he had her. But he wanted more.

And he figured he would have gotten it too if he had the foresight to turn off her radio. Because he flared to life by her side on the grass. Someone’s voice crackled through, a man voice who he had grown the loath.

The fucking irony of it all was enough to make John groan in protest. Kissing her neck as she grasped at the plastic to raise it to her lips. He missed their conversation, but he was sure he had to leave lest he wanted to get caught. He had a feeling this was the kind of thing to spread like wildfire, that really it’d be his reputation getting torn to shreds while Rook prospered.

He was distantly aware of her apologizing, grabbing at his hand to kiss a knuckle before he was staggering away. Because it defiantly had been a long time since he’s indulged in those sins, and his head was swimming. He was off his game, losing his footing and slamming down on his knees.

Rook laughed, and he heard her make her way towards him in the darkness until her hand rested comfortably on his shoulder. “You should sleep it off, besides, going back home smelling like booze and weed isn’t a good thing I’d imagine.”

“What? And I should stay to hang out with your friends?”

“We were going for a swim, actually.” And his head tipped over to his left where he could just barely hear the rushing of water past the trees. “You can sleep on the shore, no one’ll bother you so long as I say so.”

That did funny things to his stomach, it made a wounded sound punch out low from his gut as he nodded dumbly. “Or I could join you.” Because he was aware she probably didn’t own a swimsuit, and he’d spend weeks kicking himself if he didn’t capture that scene.

And going by how she snorted a second later, she knew where his mind had wandered to. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His eyes fluttered close when her hand raked through his hair for a fleeting second. God, if she only knew how badly he needed her. How he’d give everything just for a taste of what Boshaw had gotten, she’d twist him so badly around her little finger. And he had to admit, he didn’t dislike the sound of that.


	51. Perfect Fit pt 2 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook remembers and goes to John for more

She’d think with the amount of bliss forced into her body that night, she wouldn’t remember a thing. Because though everything was a blur, the bliss was a hard feeling to forget. Maybe it was the bruises that brought it all rushing back despite her fear for finding out the truth.  
  
They dotted around her neck in the form of teeth marks only a human could form, her hips had tiny purple bruises in the shape of a splayed hand cradling her. Along her stomach was a deep yellow set bruise that made her think she crashed into something--a wall?--and was held there.

She was twisting and turning in the mirror Dutch had provided her with. Trying to conjure up any sort of memories from last night, because what should have been there was just darkness. A blank void where her memories should be.  
  
The last thing she recalls is cursing at a finicky fish that she couldn’t wrangle in. Being too loud since she had bed down in the Henbane and all she’s seen of Faith so far had been ghostly apparitions that never even touched her. It was just her and her rod that almost snapped in two. 

Then nothing but the aches over her body and the bruises that decorated every inch of her skin. It was with her hand tracing over the spots on her hips when it came back to her. Not in bits and pieces like in the movies for plots sake. It came all at once, with horror etching it’s way across her face at what he did to her.

  
She remembered the tail end of it all, when the bliss struggled to keep her contained, and she didn’t exactly remember hating it. If she concentrated hard enough she could hear him whispering, moaning, giving her praise. It really shouldn’t have been the thing that she masturbated to later that night when she slept under the stars. Ways away from Dutch’s bunker because she had a phone call to make.

Rook didn’t need Dutch questioning her when he inevitably heard John’s preppy voice through the thick walls that separated their rooms. So she took up camp with a tree canopy as her only form of shelter. And she called John, like any sane person would do. She raised the radio to her lips and didn’t even rehearse what she was going to say. She was too angry for that.

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

There was silence on the other line, and for a moment she came to the realization for the first time that John may be asleep, he was still just a human.

“I know you did _something._ I can’t remember a damn thing and there are bruises--”

“What makes you think I was the Seed who laid a hand on you? Faith uses bliss more than I do.”

“Maybe because of the whole spiel you delivered where I’ll ‘swim across an ocean of pain.’ Ring a bell?” She kept it to herself that her anger was for show, that she enjoyed what little she recalled.

John hummed thoughtfully, shifting wherever he was, making something creak as he moved. “Okay, yes, I see how you could assume I would do something like that to you.” He laughed, shifting again and making a low noise in his throat so Rook wasn’t fully sure that he wasn’t touching himself. “And yet you called me.”

“So you could explain.”

“Or maybe I’m simply a booty call for you, that’s it, right?”

“Most people hate being nothing more than a ‘booty call’ John. You’re gonna get a reputation for being a fucking man whore if you’re not careful.”

John’s laugh was loud, a booming thing that made her flinch. “I guess you have a point. But you’re not backing down deputy. You want something from me. Something more than the sheer knowledge of what went down between you and I, don’t deny it. And if you really want to know that bad, then stop by, my doors are always open.”

It took her two weeks to decide what to do with John’s offer; 14 whole days for her to realize that maybe she did want him to take her in again. Because she went over it night after night and decided how unfair it was that he knew the pleasure formed when their bodies collided while she remained ignorant to that night.

That was the argument she’d present to him if he asked.

Which he didn’t. He only smiled at her when he opened the door with a sway in his hips and such a sauve casualness that made her blood boil. Her pride almost made her turn around, he didn’t get to be that smug about this.

But he was already grabbing her upper arm, dragging her inside before she could protest or make some kind of defense as to why she was on his doorstep. Her mind drew a blank on anything that wasn’t lustful anyway.

He didn’t take her upstairs like she thought, not like she took time to imagine different scenarios involving him and her tucked inside his ranch with only God as their witness. But John seemed like the kind of guy to absolutely need a dozen silky blankets under him while he fucked. And yet he was content to throw her down on the carpet in front of his fireplace, which was already lit. Embers flicking in every direction, logs black at the edges as if they’d been on fire for a while.

The fire lit up his face from her angle below him on her knees. The smile he wore looked devilish, and it shouldn’t have sent a thrill down her spine like it did. She shuffled forward though when he beckoned with the crook of his finger, despite the warning signs of this man being capable of the most heinous acts, she leaned into his touch. She closed her eyes, as if she didn’t get the memo that they were enemies.

“Should I even bother asking what you’re here for now? Will you let go of your pride and just admit it?”

Rook wanted to bring up his similar feelings of lust, jab it in his face the same way he was doing about her so called pride. She didn’t forget who he was though, she couldn’t risk that. And back talking him could lead to a new tattoo. She had a feeling he’d get off on that.

“Staying quiet then?” John prodded, raising an eyebrow as he drew her closer until her cheek hit his hip. “That’s fine. You don’t need to use your words. Actions are good enough, it gets the job done at least.” He laughed, like he told a joke and expected her to smile along with him.

Rook was led only by the fingers tangled in her hair, not exactly tugging, he probably knew that she would sink her teeth into any patch of skin she could reach if he did that, but the force of his hand was so very present. Hard to forget. He had that aura about him.

“Go ahead, last time I did all the work. I think it’s only fair if you return the favor, deputy.”

She was staring down the bulge outlining in his jeans, half obscured by the too large, intricately made Eden’s Gate belt he always wore. He was serious. Judging by the cocky smile he sported, he wasn’t kidding. He expected to be serviced.

“Fine.” Rook bit out, hands scrambling to take off his belt with sharp tugs that jostled him where he stood. “This is the last time.”

John hummed low in his throat, eyes slipping shut when her hands dug into his waist, ready to pull his jeans down. “Whatever you say Rook. It’s your call.”

When she did work up the courage to yank his pants down, she made a curious noise that caused him to squirm. “No underwear? Really John?”

He shrugged, hand tightening in her hair to urge her forward. Looking nonchalant about it. Carefree too, like he had expected her to come to him all along. “It’d only serve to get in the way.” Then he was frowning, eyebrows drawing down tight as he stared at her. “But I didn’t bring you here to criticize my life choices. Suck.”

Rook snorted, biting back a full laugh when his scowl got meaner. What did he expect when he spoke to her in such a demanding tone that she figured only Jacob would use.

She did listen though, for probably the first time since she got to Hope County. She took someone else's orders, followed them out semi willingly. Because she did want this, that wasn’t easy to forget, not when she fed his length past her lips with a pleased whimper.

He wasn’t thick, lacking girth, more length than anything, not like she’d tell him that. But he was a definite heavy weight on her tongue, invading her mouth until she felt her jaw ache seconds after she felt his head bump the back of her throat. Her nose buried in his pubic hair before she had a chance to figure out how to tackle this, it had been longer than she liked to admit. Not like John was giving her time, he wanted this now.

That was evident in the way his fingers tightened, forcing her to move as he pleased. He set the pace, which was faster than she would have chosen. It made saliva pool at the corners of her lips, had her choking when his cock head repeatedly slammed into the back of her throat. Which only served to make her muscles spasm around him, and if his cut off groans were anything to go by, he didn’t mind that he was choking her. Stealing away her oxygen just to rut away into her mouth.

“See? You did want this, you wanted it back then, when Faith handed you to me, and you want it now. You’re so obedient when someone gets their cock out, huh? That’s all it takes apparently.” He was laughing, constantly talking, petting at her hair when she kept bobbing her head, offering praises as he cooed at her.

“You just needed someone to put you in your place.” Each word was accentuated with a rough jut of his hips striking forward, and each time she curled her tongue around him, pressing down on the underside of his cock until she knew how to make his knees buckle. “There,” he murmured, softer now, speaking gently with both hands, cupping her cheeks affectionately. “Keep doing that deputy, might have to ask for a repeat performance.”

His chuckle was cut off with his own moan. A strangled noise that made her whine from how good he sounded. Then he was emptying down her throat, toes curling onto the wooden floor as he struggled to stay standing.

John was quick to fall after he slipped out of her mouth, drawing her in close to his chest as if he never intended to let her go. He was whispering something she couldn’t hear into the crown of her hair, laying kisses to her cheek, then her neck as he forced her head to tip back.

“John?”

“I know, I know.” He pulled away, eyes still blown wide from his orgasm, a bleary smile hanging on his face. “You wanna cum, don’t you?”

She didn’t answer, the bastard would get too much satisfaction from that. John didn’t need her to speak though, because seconds later his hand was down her pants, pushing past her panties to shove his fingers inside her. Rubbing at where she was wet and wanting. “That excited you this much?” He pulled out his fingers, holding them up to her face to show off her slick. “You’re a dirty girl.”

His hand was back inside her before she could argue. He was an expert at that, at least, exploring her body with ease. Using his thumb to roll her clit around as he teased at her entrance. Drawing her near the edge and kissing her, swallowing her moans of his name as she came.

He drew the whole thing out, didn’t stop even after she squirmed in his arms from the sensitivity. He smiled at her when she cried out, anger still in her eyes as her body was racked with tremors. “Admit it, I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

An ego man it would seem, puffing out his chest with a crooked smile, taking in her flushed cheeks as if he already knew the answer.

“A solid five out of ten Johnny.” She patted his cheek and stood, panting from exertion, fixing her pants and ruffling his hair, whistling as she walked out, only glancing once over her shoulder to take in the scene of the crumpled man still seated in front of the fire.

She made it three steps out his door before he pounced on her, running out the door with his jeans still undone, belt hanging loose. “That’s not fair, you only gave me two chances.” He held up two fingers, curling them into a fist moments later. “I get one more go.”

“That’s not--you can’t just--”

“I can!”

He dragged her back in, kissed her hard, probably spurred on by the darkness that acted as their cover. “You don’t get to leave just yet. I get one more chance. Oh Rook, I’m going to make you see God.” 


	52. I'll huff and puff and I'll blow your house down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Holland Valley at the Pig Farm there's a voicemail about John trying to buy the place, but the owner refuses and he replies with "Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down," Rook finds this hilarious so she calls him to talk about it with him

She spoke to countless people, listened to numerous voicemails left unattended, and went as far as to read poorly written notes scattered in the rubble of what used to be someone’s home.

Through all that she managed to glean what kind of man John was. She learned about how disgustingly vindictive he could be well before Eden’s Gate showed its true colors. No detail was left out on how cruel John always was. Buying up land left and right. Offering huge sums of cash with a casual smile and kind eyes. Uncaring if it was a family business that had sentimental value or if that was their only source of income meant to support their children for years.

Some people said yes—the better choice whenever John was standing in front of you with great expectations—but others said no. Because of course they did. There was a very small percent that would give up their life works to a stranger who acted like he’s spent his whole life in Hope County. Like he was entitled to what they had.

Threats were made, she figured that was John’s usual. But this...this moment that must’ve happened right before everything went to shit trumped everything else she’s heard so far about the man.

She just didn’t know if it was true. And she had to know. Because sitting around the campfire with her friends and shoving John into the role of a dramatic bastard would be so much better if this was true.

“John.” She fingered the button on her radio nervously, eyes half closed as she stared to the right of the sun as she bit her lip. Trying to stifle her laughter as she just thought about the alleged threat he made to a good man and his wife. “C’mon John, it’s not that late. No way you’re sleeping.”

“I was using the bathroom, thank you very much. You’re very impatient as of late. Something under your skin you’d like share?”

“No, no, no, that’s not how this works tonight. I think you’re the one who has some explaining to do.”

“Me?” He sounded so utterly offended at the prospect, and that made her heart swell with pride. “Exactly what are you accusing me of this time that doesn’t involve any hypocrisy?”

She would question what he just said, but Rook definitely remembered the last time she said something about his wrath and he threw it right back in her face. But she’s never, not once, quoted a children’s fairy tale like some movie villain.

That time she did laugh, made it loud and obnoxious until he was seething. Snarling words into the radio that told her to hurry up, apparently he had work to do.

“Do you know the local pig farm here in Holland Valley?”

“I’ve lived here longer than you, dear. Yes, I am well aware of their gluttony disguised as a meager pig farm.”

Rook nodded quickly despite him not being able to see her. She recalls seeing the black paint ruining the once beautiful sign, claiming those who raised cattle were nothing more but sinners, gluttons. Considering they were feeding the community, providing for everyone, she felt like that was unfair. Instead she pushed that thought to the back of her mind, breathed in deep so she could get her words out properly.

“Good. Good, and you know who owned it...or once owned it until you murdered them.”

“Murdered? No, no they’re safe in my bunker. No longer indulging in sin.” He laughed, but it was cold, she could hear his smile when he spoke next. “But I do know them well by now. Why?”

“Okay, well, in that case, then maybe you remember stopping by there with an offer to buy their farm.”

There was silence on the other line. Absolute quiet. For a moment she was afraid she scared him off. Not like she was sorry about that, more disappointed that she never got her words out fast enough.

But then he was speaking again in a dangerously low tone on the verge of screaming. Leave it to John to have too much pride to let anyone even think of his failure.

“I do remember that. They refused my generous deal. That money was enough for them to retire and put their kid through college! Twice!”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say someone’s gloating.”

“M’not.” It sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. Containing his anger when she accused him of flaunting his cash. “I don’t know what they wanted from me.”

“That must’ve sucked. And knowing you…” she clicked her tongue. “You must have been pissed. So what did you do about it when they told you no?”

“I left.”

Rook paused, mouth half open, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

Pride again.

“You just...left.”

“Of course I did. What was I meant to do, shoot them and take their land?” John sucked in an audible breath, frowning suddenly. “What version of the story did you hear? What rumors are spreading about me this time?”

Rook laughed again, head propped up on her cupped palm as she thought about it one last time. “Oh nothing much. I just believe you said, ah, what was it?” She snapped her fingers, purposely loud as if she was trying to grasp the memory, “That you’d ‘huff and puff and blow their house down.’ Dunno it was something like that.”

“Oh you have quite the imagination.”

“Yeah? Glad you think so, but even my mind isn’t fucked up enough to conjure up something like that. But I know you have an imagination like none other. So,” Her words were cut off by her own laughter, provoked because the image of him quietly seething was too much, “what the hell were you planning on doing? If you’re threat did carry any weight, what could you possibly do to match your words? Enlighten me.”

John, bless his heart, did not send an army of men after her. He did not go running to Joseph or simply turn off his radio. Probably because he knew her by now, and he knew this wasn’t something she was about to let go if she sounded so intrigued.

When he spoke next, his whole demeanor switched on a dime. Turning so warm that she got whiplash at the change. Then she knew why, he was amused too. Relaying the events in his head as he told them to her. This was still a game to him, and that moment at the pig farm, was one of his proudest moves made in this war.

“I’ll admit, I did have to borrow some of Jacob’s men. They are so much more obedient than my own soldiers. And they were just as willing to listen to me as they do for Jacob. I owed him after that one, but God, it was worth it. You should’ve been there.” John sighed, pleased with having her listening to him so diligently for once.

“To be fair, their house was in shambles after I was done with it, just as promised. Not exactly knocked down per se, but not really standing either. It was simple, real easy when Jacob is a pilot himself and knows exactly what is takes to create a wind tunnel of sorts. Just imagine this powerful surge of air strong enough to destroy a small village.”

“John--”

He laughed at her accusatory tone. “I did tell them I’d blow their house down. And I do hate to disappoint.” There was a beat of silence, he had the radio pressed close to his ear, waiting to see if she would say anything else. She didn’t, and he had to say he enjoyed shocking her. “Now deputy?”

“Yes?”

He loved how sick she sounded. Ever the good samaritan, running through the event in her mind and already feeling bad for those he hurt so long ago before those heinous papers were served on Joseph.

“I was about to fall asleep before you bothered me with this petty call. Some people can’t run on empty like you can, I’d hate to drag out that wind tunnel again. It was a hassle to assemble. Please, for both our sakes, don’t make me do that.” The radio clicked off, leaving Rook with a setting sun behind her and the thought that John probably has a whole arsenal of creative ways to ruin lives.


	53. Love at Fist Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the community BBQ held by the Ryes, where John falls for Rook...and then she insults his watery ass mac-n-cheese

She was a thing of beauty and grace. An angel brought before him. If he didn’t know any better, he would call this fate.

From what he could tell from only observing her from across the lawn, he could see how sweet she was. How absolutely gentle she could be. Ever since he was a young boy he’s wanted someone to treat him with love the way she did with her friends.

She practically floated as she bounded from one group to the next. Tipping her head to the side to show she was listening. Her face an open book of emotions, and it was like he was apart of each conversation as her expression twisted from concern to happiness to absolute joy from what was being said.

Her hands were always moving, gesturing despite the red solo cup she held in a death grip. She would place a hand on someone's shoulder or arm as she spoke, manicured nails digging in as she bounced on her tiptoes.

There was a childish charm that surrounded her. She was the life of the party to him. Standing out in any crowd, making people’s faces turn into smiles when she graced them with her presence. He prayed she’d do the same with him. From what he could tell, she was sweet enough to greet everyone at least once, surly she would make a new family feel welcome.

John kept these thoughts internal, didn’t want to bother Joseph who was busy raiding the food table after placing their own Mac and cheese dish on the plaid cloth. Even if he was standing with Jacob, leaning on the wall of the Rye’s house, he wouldn’t voice his desires. He can’t remember much of his childhood, and the few things he can recall of the eldest was so much different than the hardened man next to him.

John managed to catch her eye when she herself grabbed a plate and approached Joseph the way someone might with a frightened animal. She glanced over Joseph’s shoulder to stare at him and Jacob both, and John felt like that was his cue.

He didn’t have the chance to introduce himself. By the time he grabbed a plate of his own and bumped his shoulder with her own to suggest the mac and cheese he made earlier in the day, everything in his world came crashing down.

All his hopes and dreams dashed when she flickered her gaze between Joseph and himself and shoved a spoonful in her mouth. Her face puckered, nose scrunching up. Then someone was behind John, laughing at her expression.

“Yeah, Rook, we were gonna warn you about that one--Kim told me to--but ah, Sharky said not to and, I like him better.”

John turned his head minutely, tried to keep the smile on his face as the scruffy man sporting glasses to hide his eyes got punched on his arm by who he assumed was Kim, his wife if the rings adorning their fingers were anything to go by.

Rook, he learned, was speaking again after spitting out his hard work on her plate. She grimaced, a shudder running through her tiny body as she stuck her tongue out like a petulant child being told to eat their veggies.

She jabbed at John’s shoulder with her fork, “you trying to get me killed stranger?” She smiled at him, unaware that he had slaved over that dish for way too long.

But he laughed along with them, fingers digging into a plastic fork he had picked up.

Love was dead anyway.


	54. Reverse Kidnap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Rook who does the kidnapping this time around, when John is hurt after their plane fight, Rook finds him and takes him where no one can find him

She had his key tucked away safe in her pocket. Her job was done, this had been the exact outcome she had been hoping for when she raced into the air filled with wrath. If she really wanted to, if she could do her actual job as a deputy correctly for the first time since she’s got here, she would walk away and launch a damn rescue mission to get Hudson out of the hell that was John’s bunker.

But he looked so pitiful. Like the broken child he had once been in his stories, beaten down by his parents, tossed to the ground and tortured until all he knew was one word that changed the lives of so many.

He was still breathing. Chest moving in uneven patterns, tiny, ragged pants leaving his mouth. Which was filling with blood the more time she spent just staring at him.

“You dead yet John?” She nudged at him with her boot, knocking him over on his side so he wouldn’t drown in his own blood. “Gonna make my job easy for once?”

He laughed, smile barely there. “No.”

“‘Course not, crazy son of a bitch.” Her words were more meant for herself. With the way his eyes were slowly slipping shut, she figured he was falling towards unconsciousness quick. Which did make this easy for her. No one could judge her for her next few actions. They couldn’t question what she was doing, not even him. No one was here to give her directions with the expectations that she’d jump through their hoops. This was her choice alone.

So no one would ever have to know that she had been the one to make John’ body disappear from the wreckage. No fingers would point in her direction at how she cradled him to her chest like he was much younger than 32, none of her friends would ask her if she had been the one to kidnap Eden’s Gate glorious baptist.

Under the cover of darkness, she found them a tiny bunker behind some burnt down house that she was sure John didn’t even know existed. Nor did the rest of the Seeds considering that the homeowners were long gone. 

He was the perfect little bargaining chip. That made this justifiable, right?

*****

She was there when John woke. Seated by his side, fingers playing with the edges of the white bandages she had splayed across his chest to stop the flow of blood from the bullets she embedded in his skin.

Rook saved his life when so many wanted his head on a fucking pike.

And he had the audacity to attack her as soon as his eyes fluttered open and three seconds ticked by with their eyes locked and silence stretched between them. He was launching out of bed with little grace, trying to overpower her, to grab the knife strapped to her thigh.

“John! Fucking stop!”

When he screamed in response, it lacked words, something akin to a battle cry as he attempted to knock her feet out from under her. She did it first, put him on his back despite feeling an immediate pang of guilt from the pained grunt turned whimper that escaped him.

“Calm down! For fuck’s sake you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

John laughed, choking and gagging a second later as she yanked him upright, accepting his weight when he couldn’t hold himself up. “Does it matter if I hurt myself?,” he asked, head resting beneath her chin, too hot air puffing out against her skin. “I don’t understand you. You’re so fucking wrathful that you gun me down without hesitation, but merciful enough to take me in and keep me warm. What are you playing at?”

Rook didn’t answer him. How could she? She didn’t know how to explain herself. She could say she was still a Deputy, meant to bring monsters like him to justice, though the crimes she committed that led up to this moment would tear her story apart. She could fill his head with lies that would stop his heart in horror for the kind of things she intended to do to him, that might work, despite him knowing pain intimately.

Instead she eased him back down, placed a hand on his chest to force him to lie back before he made himself bleed again. The supplies in the bunker, which she assumed belonged to a dead man, was sparse. She wasn’t going to risk her life scrounging around Hope County to save his.

Not that he would believe that. If anyone knew what she had done, that John Seed, after his fateful transmission once his plane went down, was still kicking and breathing, they’d think she adored him. 

He probably believed it himself.

She could see it in his eyes every time she entered his room and tended to him. Every time she woke him up to check on his wounds or press food to his lips because he was getting too thin under her watch, she saw how there was fondness behind his smile. 

He was yet to say the obvious aloud. The same as she was. Even as she aided him out of bed for the first time, intent to bathe him before his wounds got infected, she didn’t explain herself. She didn’t want to put a label on what she was doing.

Not that he didn’t pry. He did, as she let him lean on her while he undressed, just as she eased him into the steaming bath, he began to ask questions.

“You haven’t left me since you shot me out of the air. You haven’t left this bunker.”

“No, I haven’t. And I can’t, not really.” Her head was tipped down, focused on the tile as she collapsed on the closed lid of the toilet, unwilling to risk her eyes dipping down in the too clear water between his legs. But then his hand was on her shoulder, squeezing, digging in his nails until she was forced to look at him.

“Why not?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice that she’s never heard. Even when he was on the ground with her hand wrapped tight around his key and he begged her to listen to Joseph, she’s never heard him yearning for her to hear him as he was now.

“Because once people find out what I’ve done--and they will--I’ll be crucified.”

“Joseph would accept you. All of Eden’s Gate would. They’d paint you as a hero after what you’ve done for me.”

She looked away, tears gathering in her eyes. Stupid. She was so fucking stupid. His words were painful, because she didn’t want to play hero. It was all an act, a role she was playing to try to win a losing battle. She was only human. And humans were complicated creatures who made stupid decisions.

“You can’t save the whole wide world Rook. I should know, Joseph tried, I watched him fail over and over again as he drove himself crazy attempting to do so. You can’t do it, but you still try, that’s what makes you a good person.”

She stood too fast, scrambling to grab a towel on the ledge of the sink. She threw it at John, uncaring at how the tips of the cloth got wet with his reflexes suffering from the concussion he most likely had. Did she have a choice other than to join them? The Resistance would throw her out, call her a traitor, but Joseph would always be there with open arms.

John was wrong, people on both sides would distrust her after what she’s done. But he wasn’t hers to keep. So by the end of the month, when people were too preoccupied with Eden’s Gate that Rook and John would become a thought for the end of the day pushed to the back of their minds, she’d made the trek to Joseph’s compound with John in tow. She’d play hero one last time as she eased the Seeds’ pain for the first and last time.

They weren’t going to be brought to justice, that should have been clear right from the start...someone needed to help the complicated bundle of nerves they all were. Someone had to do it, and if she couldn’t fight properly, if she couldn’t do her fucking job correctly, she could at least try to fix them.


	55. Borrowed Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook sneaks into John's ranch and steals his clothing. She keeps getting away with it so she finally she attempts to steal his iconic jacket

She was an amatuer in her craft when it all began. A sock here and there whenever she was in the area, or a loose pair of basketball shorts with a few holes in it. Nothing John would miss, or even come to realize if his lack of response was anything to go by.

And really, who was he to be so selfish as to not share his fancy clothes? It was only fair. He could put her through hell, drag her into bliss filled water masked as a baptism, if he only let her wear his shit at the end of the day that made her skin sing with pleasure.

It was like God was draping her in the finest of silks. Because it truly was the best money could buy. Even if the things she stole weren't anything too large. His socks--a little big but they’d do--made her aching, bloodied feet less bruised at the end of the day. Oh, and when she finally got her hands on one of his shirts, she was hooked.

Rook could really only wear it when she slept judging by how different her and John were built. It was perfect for when her job got too messy and it was laundry day at the marina. Adalaide was the one person who wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at the sudden change of attire.

She eventually learned what brand John preferred, what materials made his skin itch and which he wanted exclusively.

She was getting good. Soon turned into an expert at slipping past his guards--and even the man himself on a couple of occasions. It was time to hit him hard, to go in for the big guns. It was a mixture of over confidence and knowing that he finally realized something was happening with his wardrobe for her to make such a rash decision.

Or maybe she was just tired. After all, her bed of choice on a nightly basis could never equate to the plush king John had in the center of his room. Whatever the case was, she knew what she was after. Something that, if stolen successfully, would make John snap.

At least she hoped so. Hell, if she were him, she would be pissed. Especially after learning the price tag of his sleek trench coat littered with planes. Hand crafted, he told her when she prodded during her impromptu confession.

$40,000.

The man who specially crafted that coat should be sued. No piece of clothing should be worth that much. Not that John thought so, she even saw a smidgen of pride when he spoke of it.

And now it was hers.

Rook sighed as she slipped it over her shoulders. Breathing out in surprise at how light it was. Though she couldn’t help feel like a kid playing dress up, snatching up their father’s shirt where it was discarded when he wasn’t home.

It was just sitting there...out in the open, lying folded up neatly at the foot of his bed. This moment was made for her, the perfect opportunity. She was quick to dash to a full length mirror across from his closet to take in how she looked. Trying his jacket on was one thing--she could even snap a few pics just to get under his skin and flaunt around the county--but stealing it was another.

All she needed to do was slip back out the way she came. Easy as--

“Deputy, what surprise.” John’s voice made her jump backwards, right into his chest. His arm moved quick, locking into place right across her waist. “Breaking and entering now, hm?”

She wanted to protest, to argue, tell him it wasn’t what it looked like even though it was exactly what it looked like because she was donning his goddamn jacket and if he directed his eyes a little lower he would see that she was wearing his socks that had been missing well over three weeks.

“Hush now,” murmured when all she got out was a small squeak that didn’t constitute as words. “So you’re the one who’s been taking all my things? What is it that makes you steal? Your greed? Is it to spite me? Or do you simply like smelling me?”

She stayed silent, head tipping back to knock into his collarbone.

“Or maybe...maybe my little deputy has somewhat of a kink.”

That wasn’t a question. He was accusing her, but judging from how his arm was tightening around her, how his head had dropped to nuzzle into her neck, she figured he had a thing for it too.

“You’re projecting.”

He laughed, and god that laugh sounded better in person than over the loudspeakers of every outpost ever. “I am. You look good in my clothes.” He spun her suddenly, clutching onto her upper arms when she almost fell. “And if you wanted something new to wear, all you had to do was ask sweetheart.”

The pet name sounded strange on his tongue, she accepted it all the same though. Melting a little bit into his touch when she realized that he wasn’t angry. That he wasn’t about to beat her within an inch of her life just to make her pay.

He tugged at the leather lapels of his jacket, smoothing them out a second later to slip his hands beneath to touch her skin. “I’m assuming you still have some of my shirts.”

She nodded meekly, a lot less confident when staring him in the eyes. He was so fucking intense.

“Keep them. For now, strip.”

“Wha--what? John?” There was a note of panic in her voice as he turned on his heel to sit on his bed, leaning back on his palms to watch her.

“I can send you to Jacob, he’s been looking for you. Or I can indulge your want to take my things with a simple trade. Now strip.”

Jacob. She blew one of his outposts to hell and got the fuck out of his region as quick as her plane would allow her. The last radio transmission she heard from him, pairing with the stories from the locals, made her shuck off John’s jacket without further hesitation.

Rook tossed it to him, snarling when he caught it easily, folding it into his lap neatly to continue watching her. It was awkward, bending this way and that, trying to keep her body covered with her arms. Which really didn’t do much when he stood to yank her hands down by her side.

Her eyes snapped close, jumping from the sudden warmth that wrapped around her. She glanced over her shoulder, watching John carefully as he guided her arms back into the sleeves of his jacket.

“You look good. Wearing nothing else but my coat.” He circled back to her front, hands warm where they cupped her breasts. “Shoulda let me know sooner.” He leaned in close, kissing at her jaw as his hand slipped down to her waist. “Got a lot of pretty things I’d like to see you in sweetheart, god, just you wait. By the end of the month you’ll be my little play thing, all dolled up in whatever I give you.”

He held her chin between his fingers, smiling wide like he already owned her. “You have no idea what you started.”


	56. Tattoo (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John with Rook and he sees Jacob's name tattooed on her ass

“What the fuck is this?” John’s voice dropped dangerously low, his hands--where they had been resting on her hips, already forming bruises--tightened until she flinched, cringing away from him. His eyes were opened wide, caught on the dark patch of ink standing out on pale skin that was definitely not his work.

His cock had softened considerably, thoughts of his brother up in the mountains coming to the forefront of his mind just by seeing her tattoo. It was fancy, swirling text with accentuating shadows and a dark tinge of red meant to give the letters some depth. The J stood out, acting as the largest of the letters, while the others were much smaller, stacking up and lopsided. If it hadn’t said his brother’s name, he would have appreciated how beautiful it was.

It was hard to hide considering how naked she was, ass held up in the air for him. It explained why she was so hesitant to undress for him, why she insisted she be the one to ride him for the past month. Why she didn’t dare enter his shower to join him in fear that he’d see Jacob’s name on her ass cheek.

“Rook. What the fuck?” He shoved her down, a hand held in the center of her back to keep her from moving.

They weren’t exclusive by any means. This was just them fucking. With the occasional soft moment shared between them, with breakfast in bed and gentle kisses to will away his nightmares.

It hurt more than he’d like to admit. Though for reasons that made his chest tighten with anger instead of envy. And he had no problem letting her know that.

“After all these weeks, with me pestering you to just let me tattoo you once. You go and get this!”

All her muscles stiffened as she glanced over her shoulder, brows raising in surprise. Her lips rose into a smile as she bucked back at him, getting her bearings for a second, allowing her to flip onto her back. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

He crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating despite how the sight of her chest swaying from her movements made his cock harden again. It lost it’s effect when he was equally naked as she was, muscled thighs parted around her waist to show off his body.

“Yes.” He stressed the word, fingers trailing along her jaw, eyes closing out of sheer childish anger. “I wanted to give you a tattoo first.”

“You wanted to mark me first.”

His head dropped, cheeks heating up. “Isn’t that what I said?”

She laughed, the sound making him raise his chin as he pouted. “John,” she reached up, back arching slightly so she could cup his jaw, thumb rubbing his beard. “You can still do it, nothing’s stopping you.” Her voice was soft, eyes sparkling with amusement as his own eyes widened.

“Gonna be a lot bigger than what Jacob gave you.” He warned, leaning down to cover her body with his own. He smiled into the kiss she offered, hands wandering between them, pinching her nipples and grasping her breasts with fervor. “I want people to know, unlike Jacob, fucking snake that he is.”

Rook was worried for a moment, scared that she created unneeded turmoil in the Seed family. But John was smiling, he loved his brother, and as long as he could place ink on her skin he’d be fine. He knew how to share.

“I want Jacob to see it the next time you fuck.”

“And where’s that going to be?”

“About here,” he murmured, pulling back to move a finger along the underside of her chest. “Something tribal maybe, a play off of one of my own.” Inside his felt anger rear again, angry that Jacob might not even notice at first. Jacob was an ass kinda man, he knew that much, which is why he probably chose to write his fucking name there.

John huffed, shaking his head as he leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth. She could tell he already made his mind up, that he had mapped out the area of skin he was going to use and she didn’t have much of a say in it. “It’s gotta be good Johnny.”

John kissed the valley between her breasts, beard dragging along her skin until she was squirming, painfully aware of his cock resting on the apex of her thigh. “First though, we’re going to finish what we started, and I’m going to keep you from my brother as long as I can sweetheart.”


	57. Where You're Meant To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy day off on an outing with Staci/Rook and a jealous John lurking about. *No cult*

This was fine. She was an adult woman who could make her own damn decisions. Despite always having to glance over her shoulder, she could hang out with whoever she wanted. Tonight proved that. That’s why she said yes to Staci with only a moment's hesitation.

Staci always had a hint of cockiness about him, a suave arrogance that she figured was only a front. It didn’t matter, anyone would be better than John. Staci could be sweet, John was just... creepy. Sending her care packages and letters, bundles of flowers to her fucking work place just to get her attention.

He didn’t get to dictate her life. She had friends, she went out. This was _her_ life.

Her hands shook only a little as she climbed into her car, one eye on Staci in the passenger seat and the other on John’s off white van in the parking lot. Watching her, or waiting for her?

She’d rather neither.

And if she had more balls she’d tell him so.

Instead she was---lurking didn’t seem right---it implied she was doing something wrong when that couldn’t be further from the truth. In all reality she felt like John should be the one who felt guilty. He was making her life a living hell. Making her check too many times in the rear view mirror for his car that was hard to miss on the bland stretch of road she had chosen.

“The fuck are we going Rook?”

“Out. A quiet place, away from all,” she waved her hand, car veering slightly when she tossed her eyes back again, craning her neck a little too much to find nothing. “That noise.”

“Hope County is the least noisiest place a deputy could work, you’re lucky you chose Montana.”

She snorted. Her mind flitting immediately to John. If she hadn’t of chose Montana, she wouldn’t have met John. He wouldn’t have been so enraptured of the first resident to show him an ounce of interest.

Then again, she wouldn’t have met Staci. And Staci was hot, she’d fuck Staci if she could actually manage to be alone for an hour.

And with where they were, surrounded by mountains and trees--she had a feeling they’d have more than enough time.

“Is this to your liking Stace?”

“As good a place as any, I guess. Yeah, quiet.” He was making a face, brows scrunched down, lips pulled in tight as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Lots of bugs.”

“It’ll make you strong,” she quipped, swatting him on the chest and twirling on her heel a moment later, not waiting to see if he would follow.

He did. She heard the soft crunching of his boots breaking twigs and making woodland creatures scatter. She practically felt the heat radiating off his body as he fell into step beside her, arm brushing along her skin with each step.

This was going to be good. This time, alone, she was going to make it last.

“Here.” Rook threw her arms wide, tossing a bag at his feet as she plunked herself down on the dirt. “Right here’ll work.” He didn’t need to know that she chose this spot in the woods for the express reason that the sound of a nearby stream was just loud enough to muffle whatever noises they made.

Like sex.

Staci hummed, kneeling, fingers moving fast when she jerked her head towards her bag for him to unpack. She liked the way he didn’t argue, that he seemed content. So unlike John.

Her phone--tucked safely away in her pocket--vibrating uncontrollably, lit up in a flurry of messages.

Speak of the devil.

**John**

_Rook?_

**John**

_Are you busy? Or free at all? Because I feel as if you’re avoiding me_

**John**

_And we both know that you’re not that cruel_

**John**

_Right Rook? C’mon, answer me_

Then he called, not bothering to leave a voicemail. Just blowing up her phone as she fumbled to flick the switch on the side until everything was silent.

“Got a hot date Rook? Somewhere else to be besides here?”

Staci was...an asshole. He was like John in that sense. Too much bravado for his tiny body, collapsing on the blanket he laid down with swagger she didn’t know he could muster. She shrugged as if his comment didn’t bother her, like her heart wasn’t picking up speed because the thought of John figuring out that she was with a another man was terrifying.

“Come on then. Relax.” He flashed her a gleaming smile, holding out his hand until she actually took his advice and just breathed. His fingers curled around her own, dragging her closer until their thighs were pressed together.

She could forget about John’s manic obsession for the moment, munching on poorly made sandwiches with them forgetting that their boring job was waiting up for them whenever they decided to make the drive back to Hope.

For a second, everything was fine. Until it wasn’t, until he broke the goddamn silence by materializing out of thin air between the hedges. “What in God’s name are you doing Rook?” John stood only a few feet away, hands on his hips like some diva. Eyes sharp and analyzing the scene before him as if some crime was taking place.

“You were meant to be with me today darling.”

Staci, a chunk of lettuce hanging from his lips, quirked an eyebrow at her. Questioning the truth to John’s words. She shook her head minutely, a frown setting in. Rook wasn’t 100% sure if John really thought she was supposed to be by his side, he always seemed to make things up. To pick her up from her place of work with an arm looped through hers, letting her know the reservations he set up last night without her knowledge.

He had a relationship planned out in his own twisted mind.

“I’m sorry to interrupt---” He waved his hand with a roll of his eyes, “whatever the hell this was. But you are worth more than sun heated water and those pitiful sandwiches.” He laughed, nudging at Staci’s worn in boots with his own expensive loafers.

“This was my idea John. And quite frankly, I’m offended.” She leaned back on her elbows, squinting to make out how the light faded from his eyes when the sun was illuminating his back, forming a halo around him.

“I, uh. Hmph, I thought your tastes would change after being with me for so long. Forgive me, let me take you somewhere out of the heat. Please Rook.”

She opened her mouth, to say what, she wasn’t sure. Staci beat her to it, with a hand on her shoulder and a thoughtful nod. “S’fine Rook. Go, I’ll catch you at work tomorrow, yeah?”

Rook wanted to object. She was having fun for once, enjoying the company of someone other than a rich prick like John. But she saw the look he was giving her, one filled with understanding and sympathy. She saw the same thing in Hudson’s eyes when Rook was whisked away from their night out at a local dive bar. That was two days before John’s car was found spray painted with obscenities and Hudson had hooked her up with a friend of a friend while John was too busy buying a new car instead of washing it off like a normal person.

Staci would get payback, no doubt with Hudson filling in most of the plan as usual. She’d get her day.

John pulled her to her feet with little effort and a gleaming smile. “Let’s go, shall we dear?” He wrangled her in close until she could smell his cologne. He was none the wiser.


	58. Somnophilia (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia with John

The bliss bullet had the intended effect. Taking hold of Rook, turning her into a sluggish mess while John waited patiently for her to be delivered into his arms. She was loose and easy when she was slotted into the car seat next to him, leaning into his weight as he held her to his chest.

She mumbled tiny things in her unconscious state, seeing something past the blur of trees when her eyes fluttered open once or twice. Then she turned her head towards him, seeking out his warmth as she nuzzled into his neck.

And he’d be lying if he said that his pants didn’t tighten at the mere thought of finally having her--as elusive as she was since she arrived in a flaming ball of shrapnel.

His erection pressing against his jeans was enough for him to wave away his men as soon as they arrived at his ranch. His air of annoyance, written plainly on his face, wasn’t for show either. There was lust in his veins combined awfully with wrath. A dangerous bundle of sins that might cause her to leave his home with a few more bruises than Joseph would like.

Joseph would be okay with it. Fuck, he’d have to be, because he wasn’t here to stop John, now was he?

John accepted her body over his shoulder with ease, groaning as he took unsteady steps past his door, sure to kick it closed with the tip of his shoe. Wincing with each movement forward only because of the way his cock rubbed against his jeans.

He shushed her, cooing at her wriggling form as he knelt down to lay her body flat on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Which wasn’t lit, and that just wouldn’t do. His intentions were less than pure, fingers ready to strip her down, he didn’t need her rousing only because the chill shook the drug from her system.

The fire caught with a gentle flick of his wrist. Tossing shadows along the wall and illuminating her figure. She was beauty and grace, everything he dreamt she would be. And she was his. No one was around to interrupt him. This moment was theirs to share.

Her shirt buttons came undone between his fingers, seeming so loud in his expansive living room. Her breasts, free to look at with her shirt gone, were spilling out from her bra, the cups barely enough to contain her. Fine by him, it left little to the imagination.

He groped at her chest crudely, wasting a second more before he lifted her up to unclasp her bra, letting her breasts bounce free. He couldn’t help the small groan he let out turned whimper as he stared at what he put on display.

John followed suit, moving onto his own body. His hands now shaking as he pried off his vest, then the shirt underneath. He shifted on his knees, casting a glance around his dimly lit home as if someone was lurking in the shadows ready to call him out on his sins.

But it was just him and Rook, both their chests bared to the open air.

He toyed with his belt, fingering the buckle nervously. For what it was worth, for all the times spent in college with pretty things fawning over his body, he was self-conscious now. Scared of what she would think if she was aware of how he looked right now. He glanced down at his thighs, now half exposed as he shimmied out of his jeans--awkwardly he might add, with him still on his knees, between her splayed legs.

The scars that littered his body stood out when he was so close to her clean skin. The only blemishes being the bruises that she gained fighting his men. Her thighs, unlike his, weren’t ruined by barbaric written words.

When he slipped his fingers into her panties, pulling them off swiftly, he couldn’t help but run his hand through the hair that covered her cunt. Cut down close to her mound, scattered hair that was just barely long enough to curl.

He ran a single finger down her slit, rubbing at her clit before dropping lower. Right between her folds. He slipped inside her, eyes slamming shut at how tight she was. But not wet.

John cringed at the way her flesh tugged at his skin, chafing painfully.

With a frown he forced her legs to open wider, wide enough to fit the breadth of his shoulders as he laid down on his stomach, getting eye level with her twitching pussy. His mouth was on her immediately. He was sloppy, out of practice. Enthusiastic in his movements though. Sucking in an ungraceful way that made awful noises sound out between them.

He traced the length of her cunt with the tip of his tongue. Shoving it inside her, making her wet for him, hoping and praying that it would be enough to slip his cock inside. He was already uncomfortably hard, his dick pressed against the wooden floor with nothing to confine him. It was difficult to shove away the urge to hump the ground, he was close to rocking his hips downward to get any stimulation.

“Ready sweetheart?” He tested a finger inside her, nipping down on her inner thigh at the natural slick he found there. “Oh yeah...yeah your good. Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

John scrambled to get back on his knees, rolling the tension out of from between his shoulder blades. There was nervous energy driving him forward, making his hands shake as he lifted her legs to place on his shoulders, hissing from clenched teeth as his leaking cockhead brushed along her cunt, feeling the warmth coming off her in waves.

It was easy slipping inside. A single push and he was halfway in. He shuffled closer, sinking in deeper, all the way up to the hilt.

He gasped at the feeling of her walls fluttering around him. It was tight enough to make him pause, scared to thrust into her lest he came too soon. Because he already felt close, there was a tightness in his stomach that made him whimper.

“Fuck.” his head dropped forward, hair haning in his eyes as he gently rolled his hips. His hands found the natural curve in her waist to get some sort of leverage. He grabbed at her flesh, shoving himself in deeper, whining at how she got tighter for him. “Yeah honey? You’re excited, huh?” He bent her nearly in half, making to kiss at her neck. Sucking marks there that she was bound to find in the morning.

Not that he cared, he only wished he would have something to remember her by. Scratches or bruises that would ache every time he moved.

His cock jerked inside her, pulsing wildly as he came in the next moment, shoving harder inside her until she whimpered in her sleep. Nose scrunching up in the same way it did whenever she was angry.

“There we go.” John mumbled, easing her legs off his shoulders as he pulled away. He sat back, gazing at how his cum seeped out of her spread lips.

He didn’t want to let her go. Now that it was said and done, there was an awful pain inside his chest. He could let his men take her miles from here, somewhere where she would be found and safe come morning. But where would that leave him?

She’d fight him. Whether or not he treated her well, she would fight tooth and nail for her freedom. He laughed, dipping a finger between her legs to push his cum back inside her. She can fight all she liked, the truth was, he’d been doing this a lot longer than she had. He’d keep her under his thumb for as long as it would take for her to realize that she was his.


	59. Dreaming (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John having a sensual dream about Rook where she is pliant and receptive, and not wrathful, only to wake up alone and left wanting

She was perfect on her knees for him. Eyes blown wide without the help of bliss, only lust fueling her along. Driving every action of hers, giving her the same confidence she has on the battlefield. Except without the harsh touch behind her fingers, nor the dominance.

Tonight she was pliant. Hands tucked away in her lap, waiting for his command. Which he gave a moment later with a nod of his head, signaling down between his bare legs, to where his cock sat heavily along his thigh. 

Rook was so receptive, squirming forward as if she could get any closer, nuzzling into his warm skin before licking a strip up his shaft. That small action made him shudder, head falling back against his high leather chair. 

His hand moved to the back of her head, urging her to take him only for her to nip at his fingers. Not exactly wrathful, just enough of a spark for her to be the Rook he knew so well. She smiled at him, sweet and cynical at the same time when she reached up to take his cock in hand. 

Her hand was much better than his own, smaller with more calluses, scratching along each nerve that she ghosted over. She moved slowly, drawing it out until his legs were twitching and his toes were curling into the carpet. 

“Fucking hell deputy.”

“Yes John?” She stuck out her tongue playfully, not at all shying away when he grabbed his dick to rub along her offered tongue. 

“C’mon, getting impatient here.” 

She smiled the best she could, opening wide in an instant until she could wrap her lips perfectly around the bell top of his cock. She sucked gently, cheeks pulling inward as her tongue rolled round and round. 

A spark of something warm tangled around in his lower stomach, making him lean forward with a rough puff of air let out against her hair. He cupped the back of her head, rubbing gently, coaxing her downward because at the rate she was going she was going to make him cum too soon. He wanted to savor the moment of such a nuisance finally on her knees for him.

“Think you can take all of it?” He murmured, sitting up straight to watch in amazement as she took his entire cock in her mouth, humming softly as she paused, adjusting to the pressure in her throat. “Breathe, darling. Deep breaths.” He stroked her cheek, not at all deterred by the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

She looked good with a dick in her mouth, lips turned cherry pink with saliva collecting at the corners. Entire face flushed with the effort of giving him pleasure. 

She bobbed up and down soon enough, tongue working, swirling in crazy patterns that made him cry out. He let out a low groan when she pulled up quickly, suckling at his tip as he bucked up. 

It choked her, making her throat tighten up as she coughed. His hand kept her in place though, forcing her to make him finish. He was fucking close, his hips thrusting up unevenly was enough of an indicator, and she doubled her efforts until he was spilling down her throat. Coating her tongue in his seed.

Like an obedient dog she sat back, hand in her lap, tongue lolled out, showing off what he had given her. “Good girl. Swallow.” His hand twitched at his sides. Still feeling needy, wanting, like it wasn’t actually---

John woke with a start. 

His chest was stuttering, heart moving in jagged patterns as he struggled to get a bearing on where he was. He fumbled to reach his desk lamp, to bathe the room in light to make sure it really was just a dream. 

God, he needed her. And yet he didn’t think she was the kind of woman who would appreciate a booty call. It was tempting though...and he was hard. So fucking hard, like his dick had been that way for hours, everything near his groin was aching.

“Rook.” His radio was in his hand without a second thought, knuckles turning white where he gripped the plastic. “Darling, Rook, I can practically _feel_ your sinning.” He cleared his throat, squirmed uncomfortably as if she’d be able to catch him in a lie.

“Sure you just aren’t projecting?”

He laughed, a hand already wrapped around his dick, boxers cutting into his thighs. “Maybe I am. You could come and check if you want.” He winced, it was one of his weaker lines. Though she laughed right back and the sound went straight to his cock.

“Yeah John, okay. Look. I'mma go back to bed, you’re gonna take your hand off your dick and forget you ever called. Night night Johnny.” 


	60. The Definition of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s frustrated that he can't get Rook to understand how he feels, but he can't separate pain from affection, and a forced yes is as good as an ‘I love you’ to him

Love was always going to be difficult for him to wrap his head around. It was pointless, this far in life, to hold out hope that he was going to understand it one day. Though he was sure he must’ve experienced it at one point or another.

The amount of love he experienced was minimal. His brothers were a given, but that was the problem. That didn’t show him what love meant. Because he knew should say he loves his brothers. It was the natural order of things. Even that was hard the more he thought about it. The fact that when they were kids that they were the ones who raised him should be enough to show devotion. And yet he was too young to have any solid memories of them back then. So sincere love, the one he assumed made your heart throb whenever they were in pain, was lost on him. He knew how to feign it, he got pretty good at that. John knew he should love his brothers. So he said ‘I love you’ despite not understanding what that meant at the end of the day.

Love wasn’t found on the smallest of levels either.

He grew up around animals, enough to last him a lifetime. There were fuzzy memories of farm animals living where he slept, and no affection was given to the dirty creatures him and his brothers were forced to watch over. It was Jacob’s idea to set the animals free before he set that godforsaken barn to the ground. He hadn’t thought twice of it. He often wondered if that made him a bad person.

The pets the Duncan’s gave him were exactly that. Fish, dogs and cats meant to teach him a thing or two. He grew up believing it was just another thing to trip him up, a system to garner more punishment if he forgot to give them food or water.

And he did. On more than one occasion. He never loved those animals either. No more than he loved the cows and horses of his childhood. He just couldn’t grasp how anyone could kiss their animals noses and scratch behind their ears with fondness. How can someone feel such a deep seated connection to something that couldn’t even understand the situation they were living through?

If anything he had nothing but resentment towards the dog he received for his sixteenth. That dog was loyal, that’s what his father said. Even if the damn thing did nothing but cower when he was given another beating.

Love was warped from the very beginning. At thirty-two he was still trying to figure out what love was.

The people he brought into his bed knew that much. They weren’t scared to tell him that he wasn’t as affectionate as he should be, that maybe he should see a therapist because there were a few screws loose.

The woman who first told him was so fucking right that he broke down in tears after she rushed out in fear of what he would do next. Because pain and pleasure went hand in hand for him, especially fresh from leaving the claws of his parents.

He was too rough, bit down too hard and the knife he scratched her inner thigh with went too far. He had to pay a hell of a lot to avoid that lawsuit.

When he met Holly, four years into being Joseph’s pet project, he thought he could give it a chance. Joseph was supportive, he had confidence that John was different. That sex and drugs were all but gone, that he could finally find true love.

But for the life of him he just couldn’t grasp it. He gave her money and clothes and jewelry and even trip across the county. John thought she was greedy when she said it wasn’t enough. And he didn’t get it when she tried to explain that she wanted something deeper with him, that she wanted him to show that he actually loved her.

That word set him off, it made him tremble at night because the only way to show her pleasure would be to introduce pain. He couldn’t do that to her, so he broke things off after one more rough fuck where he buised her the worst he ever had.

Rook wasn’t exactly special. She was another sinner that walked into his life. She was just cute. With high brows that were all natural and a tiny nose that pointed up and wrinkled whenever she was mad. Her lips were plump, the lower one jutting out just so. His type.

But he thought he loved her. Even if he didn’t know how to voice that, he felt like this was love. If that was true, he hated it. All that talk Joseph gave to him and his flock of love was bullshit. Because this hurt. It made his head pound around his temples and behind his eyes.

Not that he could tell her that. This was her confession after all, not his. So he kept his lips sealed, seated across from her on a chair he dragged in, one that made his ass hurt after half an hour.

She stood strong, with pride. Eyes gleaming something dark as she looked up at him, half her shirt torn through the middle. He wanted nothing more than for her to say yes. To accept him and his twisted form of love; the only kind he had to offer.

John snapped sooner than he would have liked. After all that rage, after tearing her skin apart to pour out blood that ruined his clothes, he broke. His nails scratched into the wood of his workbench, as he hunched over and sobbed. His fist pounded into the wood once. Twice. Until he kicked the thing over because the skin of his knuckles were torn.

When he turned around, tears still running down his cheeks, he really took her in. How fucking scared she looked. How ruined she was, worse off than he was. He did that to her. He brought her pain because he was broken and couldn’t just say what he wanted.

“Why won’t you say yes?” He had to know. Call him a glutton for punishment. But if he couldn’t have her, then he just had to know.

“I’ve got about a thousand reasons John.”

“Then tell me,” his words were snarled off, less intimidating when his nose was clogged from crying.

“I’m fighting the good fight. I’m supposed to be a leader. What kind of morale boost would it be if I gave in?”

John sighed, shoulders slumping as his fingers loosened around the hilt of the knife he picked up god only knows when. Pride. That would do just fine. Joseph would be happy that Rook was finally tamed and Jacob would be less stressed when he was passed the buck and could take hold of her next. His brothers--who love him--would be happy.

For now though, he’d have to wait for someone else to come along. Someone who would say yes and make him feel what he thought was love.


	61. Teasing (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook is crushing hard on John, but he's still a player and every time he's about to get laid Rook cockblocks him. When Rook goes to cockblock him one more time, he snaps and fucks her instead.

He was the kind of guy she guessed she would label a fuck boy if they were still in highschool. Everyone knew the type. The perfectly coiffed hair either puffed up in the front or--in his case--slicked back. With too expensive clothes that made people turn and stare because they’d never imagine being able to convince their parents to buy them something that cost that much. The air surrounding him was static with energy. The kind of confidence that came with being someone who had a new plaything every other month.

But this wasn’t high school, or even college for that matter. They were both adults, and he still held that haughty manner that made her want to tease. Something she hadn’t done in years, when she could avoid the dress code long enough to snag some boy’s number only to never fuck him.

Because she wasn’t a slut. She was a tease. Big difference. And John Duncan, the rising lawyer in a way too small town in the middle of nowhere Georgia, made her swoon. 

She knew she caught his attention the day she stepped into his office and shook his outstretched hand. She saw it in the way his eyes dipped down for the briefest of moments towards where her bra peeked out, cupping the swell of her breasts. The whole time his cheeks remained the same peachy tone they always did. He didn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed. She decided she liked this one.

Lucky for her he jumped at the opportunity to show her what he was made of. To take her for a ride and showcase her like she was a trophy. 

“You can’t tell me you’ve never been?”

She laughed, feigning a meekness she hasn’t felt in years. “Not all of us can rely on daddy’s money. I’m not rich.”

He bristled at her comment, that much she noticed. He hid it well though, a practiced hand raising to push a curl of unkempt hair out of his eyes and back into place with the others along his scalp. “I’ve worked hard darling,” He tugged at his vest as if to accentuate his point before reaching to grab her wrist from across his desk. “Now let me show you what all that hard work equates to. Which would be a good night at a fancy french restaurant meant for those high society snobs you dislike so much.”

Rook at least blushed, head tipping down at his boldness. “I never said--”

“Seven o’clock, on the street corner, that’s where we’ll meet. Dress nicely.” He was turning away from her, satchel swinging loosely as he tossed it around his shoulders, a sway to his hips that drew her eyes down to his ass. 

He was a confident bastard, she’d give him that. Probably used to getting what he wanted. Used to girls crowding around and acting on his every beck and call. That’s what she figured as she adjusted her outfit for the hundredth time. It wouldn’t be enough, not for John’s caliber at least. Her pleated skirt and cardigan wasn’t fancy, it didn’t scream privilege like all of John’s clothes did. 

“Oh for fucks sake.” She winced when she heard John behind her, confirming her suspicions right away that, no, this wasn’t what he wanted. “I don’t understand you,” he mumbled as he turned her around, immediately crowding her space, cupping her cheek with a single hand. “You look gorgeous, but this,” he nodded down to her body, “Is not what I meant when I said ‘dress nicely.’ 

“S’all I have.”

He raised an eyebrow, already leading her away with an arm looped through hers. “You work at a law firm darling.”

“I was going to be a cop.”

He laughed, shaking his head at her, raising a hand to silence her when she tried to defend herself. “We’ll have dinner at my place instead, and next week, once I’ve given you better things to wear, we’ll have a nice time at a beautiful restaurant.” He was practically whispering to her, eyes focused on the pavement in front of them as he pressed their bodies together as they spoke.

She felt the beginning of his stubble brush her cheek when he turned his head to glance at her. From up close she could see each tiny freckle and birthmark that she never knew he had. He was dashing in the moonlight. And if she didn’t know any better, from the way his lips tipped up in a smirk, she’d say he was happy with the sudden turn of events. That he knew exactly how he wanted his night to go once they arrived at his house. 

He wanted to fuck her. For a small fraction of a second, as he led her inside his apartment that was more like a penthouse, she had to remind herself that she was not loose. She was a respectable woman who would not screw a man she was meant to work with for the next few years of her life. 

“Wine? Scotch? Maybe Vodka?” John smiled at her from his place crouched on the floor, a wooden cabinet held open to display his selection of alcohol. “Pick your poison.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Duncan?”

There was him cringing again, shying away from his title more than her actual question. He shrugged though, standing and kicking at the cabinet to close it a moment later. “No alcohol then. We don’t need it tonight, hm?”

She shook her head, trying to bring back the confident swagger she stole, taking up place on his couch with legs crossed like a respectable lady. “No, no, by all means. Scotch would be a nice change from the cheap shit I buy.” 

His smile was back in an instant as he juggled the glasses, filling them both to the brim. Something that made her quirk a questioning eyebrow at him. Which he chose to ignore, she saw that.

Ten minutes in--not at all drunk--she sat halfway across his lap. He didn’t need to know how well she could hold her liquor, that she was not in fact a lightweight despite her size. It was an excuse to lean over him, to kiss at his neck and cheek, to get to know how silky his hair was and how beautiful he looked when it hung in his face. She got to unbutton his top as he leaned back against the couch with eyes slammed shut and legs twitching impatiently. 

Rook stopped for a moment. Watching him carefully, noticing how at peace he looked with her hanging off him. She could step up her game though, because she could see, from the too tight slacks he was wearing, that he was at half mast. Not all the way there, and that was a damn problem. She could do better.

It was like he was waiting for a prize, hands restless where they were gripping the top of the couch. 

“Johnny?”

“Hm?” One eye peeped open into a little slit, revealing a bright blue iris that made her heart stutter. “Something wrong?” His hand finally moved to cup the back of her head, fingers encouraging her to get closer.

“I think I should get going.”

“What?” He was standing as soon as she crawled off him. Watching her as he swayed, more drunk than she was. He couldn’t stop her even if he wanted to. And he wanted. She saw that as he called after her, trying to grasp out to grab at her hand, stumbling halfway out the door with a frown. “Leaving so soon? Really?”

“We both got a busy day tomorrow John. Sweet dreams!”

*****

John held true to his word. The next day he called her into his office with an array of clothing and an offer to join him at his fancy restaurant where the clientele knew him by name. She chose a blue dress which he held up close to his chest and he threw her a wink with a soft “It matches my eyes, figured we’d go well together like this.”

She held back a snort, smiling her gratefulness and pointely not changing in his office with h standing a foot away like he suggested. The fabric was unlike anything she ever felt, she couldn’t stop running her hands down her sides, twisting and turning in the bathroom mirror to see curves she’s never shown off before. Then again, she’s never been one to blow money on clothes when she had bills to pay. 

He treated her like royalty, if only to get in her pants. Because what else would he want? His intentions were clear as they sat across from each other with dim lights shining above them and a crafted wooden table. He was undressing her with his eyes. Touching whatever parts of her he could, trailing fingers across her hand and up her arm until she gathered goosebumps along her skin.

“Everything’s so fucking expensive.”

“Language.” He chastised, not really meaning it when she glanced up and saw him smile. They both knew she didn’t fit in here. “It’s my treat. Don’t worry about the price.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to get.”

He raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t tell if he was judging her or not. He never tried to hide his anger before, or his annoyance for that matter, but she shrunk under his gaze nonetheless. She was the one who was supposed to be in control.

“I’ll order for the both of us then.” He said it like it was no big deal. As if he had the whole menu memorized and he could recite it by rote. Like this whole song and dance was nothing new. It shouldn’t have surprised her, she had him pegged for a stuck up rich boy the moment she saw him.

The food he asked for was something she’s never eaten, something she’s seen in movies but never had the money to order. Lobster and scallops with a tiny dish of caviar in the center of the table. Her fork jittered in her hand, clanking against her plate as she watched him spoon food into his mouth.

“Rook.” 

She wasn’t aware that her eyes were stuck on a large set window where the outside world rolled by until John had reached out across the table to her, brows drawn tight in concern. “Something’s wrong.” Not a question, it didn’t have to be when her hands were shaking and her leg was bouncing under the table.

“Nervous I guess. I don’t really belong here...with you.” 

“Ah. I think I have something that could help.” He slid out of his chair, moving quick to pull her on her feet and lead her behind him. He navigated through the dining hall expertly, keeping her close and making a sharp right towards the men’s bathroom. 

“In.” He gave her a little shove, following in behind her with a swift kick to close the door. “Here, take this.”

When she steadied herself, leaning into the touch John offered from his palm, she noticed what he held between two fingers. A baggie of tiny, white, circular pills. “John…”

“Nothing harmful. It’ll take the edge off. I want us to have a good time...Jus’ swallow it, here.” 

Rook knew what his game was, she also knew that if she wanted to continue her fun with driving him mad that downing pills wouldn’t help. And yet...god it was tempting. He was that kind of guy, the kind that made you question your morals. “Why not?”

“Atta girl.” 

He took one after her, flashing a smile full of teeth. “That should stop the stage fright, huh?”

She quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head as she let her back slam against the tiled wall. 

“Last night,” he continued, taking a step closer. “You left my house so suddenly. It was nerves then, just like now.”

She shrugged, twirling her hair. “What can I say? I pale in comparison to you.” She knew how to play this, it was simple. Blow up his ego, make him cocky. And it was working, his low laugh said it all. 

His hand placed gently on the wall by the side of her head as he leaned in, pressing a tiny kiss to her lips.

A knock on the door made him freeze, eyes growing cold in an instant. “For fuck’s sake. What now?” He rubbed between his brows, twirling away from her to yank open the door fully. Uncaring that the man who stood on the other side could see her behind John, using the wall to keep herself upright with flushed cheeks. 

“Yes?”

“Mr. Duncan.” he nodded once in greeting, eyes flicking briefly to Rook before settling back on John when he cleared his throat. “There’s a problem with your card, we need you up front.”

John smiled, somewhere between cynicism and sympathy. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there in a moment.”

He spun back to her, crowding her space to press kisses to her neck. Moving upward so he could force his tongue into her mouth. The drugs were slowing her system, making her sloppy and lacking the control she wanted. 

She was playing with fire, already in too deep to turn back. She had a feeling that wasn’t an option any more.

“I’ll get you a ride home darling. Lord only knows how long this is going to take.” he rolled his eyes, blowing out a stressed breath of air before flashing a smile at her. “I’ll come check on you in the morning, yes?”

Rook nodded dumbly, just barely aware that she had work tomorrow and that she was so fucking screwed. She was drunk and high and she felt like she was flying while John led her outside, phone pressed to his ear, saying things she couldn’t make out.

“Until tomorrow Rook.” He gave her one last kiss, helping her into a taxi cab, pressing a wad of bills into her hand. “To pay for the fare,” he explained, looking less apologetic and more frustrated with the turn of events. 

The door slammed shut, and she swore that she heard him say one last thing. Something she wasn’t meant to hear. But her mind was already wandering, her fingers wiggling in front of her face to try to shake herself away from the drugs.

It didn’t matter. She had another date with John. And that should be the last one, if she had any sense and didn’t want to get stuck with his high expectations. She’d be fine. One last night of teasing and she’d be scott free. 

***** 

John let himself in. God only knows how. She just knew that she woke up to the sound of clanking pans and she almost had a heart attack. She went as far as to grab a broom out of her closet, wielding it like a bat as she crept around corners. 

If he had been a moment slower than he would’ve had a black eye to explain to his coworkers the next day. Instead he laughed, yanking the broom from her grip and offering a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“Still a bit tired?” The smile he gave was knowing. Like he had woken up plenty of times with a hangover and residual drugs floating through his system. It made her feel weak, off her game. She didn’t have words for him, just nodded dumbly as he turned on his heel and flitted around her kitchen like he owned it. 

“How do you like your eggs darling?”

Rook sobered up a little bit when she pressed her face under the tap, choking on water. Ignoring the way he snorted a second later upon seeing her. “Eggs?” She questioned, turning around only to almost throw up the meager amount of food in her belly when the world spun. “I didn’t even know I had eggs.”

“You didn’t. I don’t know how you survived without me. What did you eat for the past week? There was nothing in the fridge, or the cabinets. I had to do a little shopping.”

She just blinked real slow at him. “Scrambled is fine.”

He nodded, content with her answer.

She wasn’t content thought. The furthest from it. This wasn’t what she expected when he said he’d see her tomorrow. He was missing work for her. 

“Yes.” John said haughtily, glancing over his shoulder. “I _am_ missing work right now. To make sure you’re not withering away in your bed.”

Her mouth hung open, had she said that aloud?

He laughed at her expression. Spooning a heaping pile of food onto a plate before sitting down across from her. “Oh look at you. Still so out of it.” 

He ended up having to press a spoon into her mouth over and over again, forcing food down her throat despite her feeling sick. He persisted, telling her how much better she’d feel with a full stomach. She got the impression that he’d gone through this before himself.

“Now, after all I’ve done,” he stood, pushing a stray hair behind her ear as he scooped up her plate to wash, “After I’ve spent so much money on you and since I’ve prepared this meal and cleaned your mess of a home,” he sighed, “what are you going to do to repay me?”

“I never asked you to do all that.”

“Well you certainly had no objection sweetheart. You never said no.”

Hadn’t she? Some time ago, when this all began and she felt like he was spoiling her. She wasn't sure. With how her mind was racing she couldn’t think right.

“Sorry.”

John wiped his hands on a towel draped over the oven’s handle, shaking his head gently as he neared her. “Sorry doesn’t do much except for clearing your guilt. Have you always been this greedy?”

“John? Is--is something wrong? Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. In an instant he steeled his expression, eyes locking onto hers as he offered her that smile that charmed everyone. “Fine. A little tired, a little stressed. But I’m fine, no need to worry.” He smoothed out invisible wrinkles on his vest, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet.

“Come on, It’s you I’m worried about. You look ill.”

“You gave me drugs.”

“Drug. Singular. And it was a tiny thing.” The hard edge of his voice meant this conversation was over, even in her state she knew that. “Payment…” He mumbled, stealing back her attention. “Got any ideas?”

“Dunno. I just wanna go back to bed John. And you should go to work.”

“Is this what we’re doing? Bossing each other around now?” He sighed, loud and over dramatic. He gave her a light shove until her backside slammed on the couch. “I think I deserve something. Come on, throw me a bone here Rook.”

She gazed up at him, and for the first time since she met him, she was afraid. Scared that he was going to hit her until she was down on the ground with hands raised to protect her head. 

Maybe he saw something hidden in her eyes, something he could relate to, because he took a step back suddenly. Gaze drawn down to his clenching fists, then back up to where she cowered as if she could sink into the cushions. 

“Let’s get you to bed then.”

The world spun once more as he helped her up. Hands wandering briefly from how he grabbed her. Feeling along her waist and groping her chest before he deposited her on her mattress. It was a paltry token to pay if it meant he would leave.

“How out of it are you darling?” He crouched down on the floor, long shirt now rolled up to his elbows, exposing a small scattering of tattoos that might be him working up towards a full sleeve one day.

She let her arm loll off the bed to trace his ink. Thinking she might not mind getting a tattoo from him if this was his work.

“It is. Most of them done under lamplight at home.” He mumbled, following her eyes down to a curvy dagger on his forearm. “My prices are steep though.” Rook, so weary and tired from last night, managed to form a sentence, one that brought a smile to his lips.

“I work at a law firm, _darling._ I can pay. The least you could do is give me something to remember you by.”

He visibly stiffened at her words. Offended or not, she wasn’t too sure. On a good day he was hard to read. Though realistically she knew they would be seeing plenty of each other at work. As far as these interactions go however, she felt like their time was drawing to an end. She’s heard talk of the new batch of interns, specifically from John, people even fresher out of college than her. New, pretty things that he would love.

Weeks from now, when she saw him taking those girls to dinner and giving them new clothes like he once did to her, she could at least have a secret lying beneath her clothes that only him and her knew of.

It’d be nice. Something to tell the family, a boyfriend to lie and hint about at the next wedding or baby shower. It was a cute fantasy. There was a lot about John that told her that he was the kind of guy adverse to meeting her parents with implications of a future with children.

He stared at her for a while, half a smile on his lips as he curled a strand of her hair round his finger until it curled and bounced.

“Maybe we could put one right here.” He said quickly, his hands fiddled with the buttons on her shirt. Popping one open despite her protest.

“I’d imagine it’s hard to go to court and find any clothes that won’t show off my collar bone. People won’t take me seriously.”

He rolled his eyes, seeming more annoyed than he had in weeks at her. “I’m the best at our firm and I’m covered.” He flashed her his arms again.

John looked mildly disappointed when she rolled her eyes. Closing them a moment later because she really did want nothing more than to sleep.

“You should go John.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat, one she couldn’t identify. She felt his fingers, swift and deft, pop open a single button. Then another. And one more before she heard him lean further back on his heels, the wood of her floor creaking as it accepted his weight. “You look good showing skin.”

He was angling. Fishing. Trying to get some kind of reaction out of her that would end with him being invited into her bed. She opened a single eye, peering at him. Having to hide a laugh seconds later when she saw the way he was pouting. As if he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere.

Rook let her eyes slam shut again, though her hand was twitching with the urge to touch him. ‘Throw him a bone’ is what he said. She doubted it would cause any harm. Other than a serious case of blue balls for him. 

She let her hand drop, down off the mattress and between his legs. Easy with the way he was crouched only inches from her bed.

Her fingers moved slow, ghosting against the front of his pants. She bit the inside of her cheek to hide the pleased note she hummed when he whined so sweet. As if he had been waiting for her to touch him since they first met.

Her hand set to work messaging his cock. Which was already straining against his jeans, showing off how big he was. He had a reason to be arrogant it would seem.

When she finally deigned to open her eyes, she got the sight of John panting on her floor, brows drawn down as he tried to muffle any noises he wanted to make. His hands were gripping onto her end table, knuckles turning white as he growled low in his throat. 

“You’re such a tease.” He mumbled when she pulled away. Eyes dark when he found hers. She only shrugged, half tempted to tell him to leave just to see his reaction. He beat her to the punch though. Standing faster than she would’ve thought possible with his dick forming a hard line past his zipper. Climbing into her bed to straddle her.

“I’m not going this time. There’s no one here to interrupt us. I’ve waited long enough.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you like the chase.”

He laughed, though it lacked any humor when he was focused solely on pulling himself out. Letting out a slew of curse words when his fingers slipped on his zipper repeatedly. He didn’t bother taking his jeans off, content to let them cut into his thighs, just far enough for him to wrap a hand around his dick to pull out into the open air.

He shuffled forward, as close as he could get. A hand planted firmly above her breast to keep her from moving. 

“Here.” He muttered, rubbing his cockhead--a dollop of cum already at the tip--along her parted lips. His thumb opened her mouth wider until she was choking on his finger and he could force his cock as far as it could go.

She was coughing immediately. She’s never cared for the men who offered their cock up like something she should be grateful for. But this was different, she had no problem worshipping him. 

Her tongue set to work as soon as she could breathe easy again. Swirling round and round and pressing down where it made him groan. Her teeth teasingly scrapped against his skin, making him hiss and buck his hips as if he could go any further.

John’s free hand moved to her head, pulling her up off the pillow to watch her sputter around him. He only laughed, proud of himself it would seem. He touched her body as if he owned it, moving past her bra to pinch her nipples.

Rook squealed at the feeling, legs kicking out against the sheets as her throat tightened around him. 

“Oh, you’re sensitive.” He whispered it reverently. A smile gracing his lips that was soon replaced by his mouth opening in a moan.

Her hands moved up to hold onto his bare thighs. Rubbing his skin softly as if to coax him along. His leg twitched, huddling closer to her as he bent in half, moving to lay a kiss to her temple. He stayed like that, breathing heavy and whining with each thrust.

He came down her throat. It was slightly disappointing, too far back for her to taste. To drive him crazy by showing off the whiteness on her tongue. She swallowed anyway though, head falling limp against the pillows. 

John came crashing down beside her, rolling off with a sigh. “Don’t think I could stay the night?” He asked minutes later, close to when she was about to fall asleep. 

She glanced over at him, seeing him looking disheveled and...nervous. That was enough for her to smile, a loose hand grabbing him by the front of his shirt to pull him against her side. “Sure Duncan.” She was lucid enough to know this was a bad idea. That him curling up into her side, going all octopus when he finally drifted off, was as dangerous as any gateway drug. 


	62. Dinner Romance pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John invites Rook to a romantic dinner by tying her to a chair

John was left alone in his room fiddling with the collar of his shirt, his hands clammy from nerves. The last time he felt this way--out of his element to the point where his stomach was curling up in knots--he was just a little boy. A kid who hadn’t had the chance to grow into the confident, suave man known for his silver tongue.

But right now, on this very day, it was different. He had every reason to be freaking out.

He breathed in deep. Head dropping, stopping himself from examining every mistake that laid in his appearance in the mirror. A piece of slick backed hair fell in his eyes with the movement, making him frown. This was meant to be perfect and that got under his skin more than it should have. With any luck she’d like the messy look on him, besides, he didn’t have nearly enough time to deal with a few stubborn strands of hair.

“Sir? She’s ready for you, waiting in the kitchen like you asked.”

John offered up a smile to the man who popped his head in—part of the newest load of recruits handed down to him by Joseph—showing his thanks with a smile and an almost friendly pat on his upper arm as he passed. “Thanks Matthew. Go spend the rest of the day with you family.” Said more to get his personal guard out of his house for the day rather than out of the kindness of his heart.

He took the steps two at a time, landing on the wooden floor leading towards his kitchen with a gentle thump. “Honey?” He called, a smile already splitting his lips wide. Though realistically he knew she wouldn’t answer. Couldn’t answer, actually.

In fact the only thing he could hear as he rounded the corner was a muffled whine that turned angry in a matter of seconds.

Rook was sat at his table, his table. In his home. It was straight out of his daydreams. Her right in front of him looking just as he remembered her that night at Joseph’s compound with the moonlight making her look angelic. Maybe her clothing was dirtier than he would have liked considering the suit he was sporting. As for her hair...he sighed, absentmindedly ruffling his own as he looked at the tangled mess on top of her head. She seemed as if she needed a good rest, not a date. But this was the best John could do right now. At least when it came to introducing himself properly.

“Good evening to you to deputy.” Again, with the muffled screaming behind the gag that pulled her lips wide. And with her thrashing in the ropes used to bound her, it all made his head spin before he forced his feet to move, to act natural despite his anxiety.

“You’ve kicked up quite the ruckus since you’ve gotten here...what has it been? A week ago?” He let out a low whistle, moving to scootch in as far as he the table would allow as he took a seat, somewhat tempted to reach out and touch her hand. To solidity this moment. “You’re a busy woman. Color me impressed, darling.”

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like words that would make Joseph himself blush, before straining her head around, as if expecting someone else to be lurking, watching their interaction.

“I can assure you, it’s only us tonight.” He watched her struggle to answer, and all at once he realized he had lost the one thing he thought perhaps he liked best about her. Her wrath that matched his own, they way she could spit words at him like second nature.

He rose to undo the gag, stretching across the table and sighing when she flinched away from his hands.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I just thought that after all you’ve heard about me--and I’m sure the locals have had their fair share tainting my name--that maybe you and I could get to know one another personally. So you could see my side.”

He saw her lip twitching. Itching to tell him off, to scream and yell for help even though no one would hear her. “You’re as crazy as they say you are. This kinda proves that.”

John floundered for a moment, lost in his own thoughts and grasping for a way to explain. Wanting to tell her that this was all some misunderstanding. It made him heart ache that she might not be that far off. “I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged off her glare, reclining back in his chair. “Though that still stings.”

Her eyes narrowed, maybe realizing the absurdity of this. “I-I don't.” She blew out a large breath. Eyes shutting a second later as she laughed softly. “Is this how you’re doing your confessions now?”

“No...no, you’re just special. Didn’t you feel it back then?”

“Back then…? This is the first time we’re meeting, face to face.”

“I mean in the church!” He jolted forward, not missing how she recoiled, eyes darting between his wild expression and how his knuckles were turning white from clutching the edge of the table. “The way you walked in, how you looked at me…” His muscles went lax as he fell back, head tipping to reveal his throat as he closed his eyes, as if recalling the memory.

John let out the softest of moans that seemed amplified in the large, empty space of his house. “I knew that God put you there for me. That He let that helicopter fall because not only could you never steal Joseph from us, but you were meant to stay. To be here for me.”

He slipped his eyes open, watching her fully. “And who am I to stand in His way?” Now he reached across the table, hips digging into the wood as he stroked down her arm until he could cradle her rope tied hand in his own.

“You’d have to be naive to not feel the connection we have. Especially in this romantic setting.” He smiled wide, watching her brows furrow before she glanced around. Maybe for the first time understanding what his intent was.

“This was supposed to be romantic? That’s what your angle was?” Her voice was soft, a tiny whisper that trailed off. Like she wasn’t confident sat before him and helpless. Scared. Scared of him?

“Is it--is it not to your liking? I mean…” He let his words die; suddenly looking unsure as he backed off.

“Dunno. Just don’t see anything special about it. Just dinner tied to a chair. The usual.”

It was a joke. In the back of his mind he recognized that.

“Just dinner.” He echoed coldly.

“Yeah. Where’s the flowers, the candles? Or music, maybe?” Sarcasm was a good defense for people who were scared, who had things to tell. But that wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. He wasn’t thinking like a Baptist tonight.

In all honesty he hadn’t thought this through. When he heard she was near his ranch, just past the river behind his house, he had been ecstatic. Absolutely vibrating with excitement as he told his men exactly how he wanted her delivered.

There had been only half an hour to prepare. Not nearly enough time to get ready in the way she deserved.

“I guess I kinda dropped the ball on that one, sure, okay. How about a do over?”

She raised an eyebrow, blinking in a way that made his leg bounce under the table.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Already he was rising from his seat, a hand scratching at the nape of his neck. He could see it in his mind’s eye, how beautiful this place would look given the proper attention. She’d swoon when she saw it.

And with that in mind he was by her side in a moment to lean down and press a kiss to her cheek, lingering there for a moment before backing off. “My men will see to it that you find a nice place to sleep. Until then deputy.”


	63. Lonely Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fic detailing Rook and John's relationship based on the avicii song, Lonely Together

She knew that she shouldn’t be here. Least of all with him. She felt trapped, caught between two worlds, caught right in the middle, getting scraped and torn up on rusty knives. 

She couldn’t be both Resistance and Eden’s Gate. 

She couldn’t be his friend. 

And yet…

And yet…

Rook rested her head on his shoulder, content that for now he was sound asleep so she could be alone with her inner turmoil. She focused on his easy breaths, so very different than her own rapid heart. She tried to reconcile what she felt inside. With her emotions running rampant in both her head and heart, two different feelings making this all too difficult.

She felt like her hands were tied. Bound up tight and connected like puppet strings. Not nearly tied up tight enough though if she was still resting by his side. In _his_ house, resting on _his_ couch with a fire blazing high in front of them.

“Lord please.” Rook glanced up, a hand trailing along his jaw, coursing through his uncut beard. He was some sort of drug, she swore. Terribly bad for her, someone who could end her in an instant, but letting him go just didn’t seem like an option. 

She knew she would hate herself come morning. And it was approaching fast. Marking the end of their time together. That thought made her feel worse than scared, because leaving him meant giving this up. Whatever this was. They were both afraid to name it. As if that would make it disappear entirely. 

Rook laid a kiss to his temple. Then his cheek. Ghosting across his lips, sucking in a breath when she felt his heartbeat stutter under her fingertips--pressed gently against his chest. Slipped inside the open neck of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. 

Careful as could be, still hesitant to wake him, she pulled away, reaching towards the half empty wine left uncorked on the coffee table. Without thinking she threw it back. Chugging sips until she sputtered and liquid was running out the corners of her mouth. Ruining the grey of her shirt. 

Her eyes strayed to him again. Envious of how soundly he slept. He might’ve had all the punishment a man could handle in his life but she couldn’t help but hate him a little. He was the reason she was suffering. Unsure of what would come of her at the end of the week with a constant target on her back. 

He was a goddamn poison.

But she couldn’t change him. Even if she didn’t want his death, even if she knew it was going to happen sooner or later, she couldn’t do a thing. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to change. They were at a stalemate then, weren’t they?

She huffed. Leaning back against the cushions. If John could hear her now…

She was already halfway there to hating who she was becoming, was there a reason to stop now?

The only reason why this kept happening, why he kept letting his guard down around her and vice versa, was the loneliness that ate away at them. She found him at night months ago, drowning from loneliness and lack of love. Just for the time being, until she killed him and destroyed the lives of his brothers, they could be lean on each other. 

She kissed the hollow of his neck. Niping there before whispering softly, “can’t we be a little less lonely together John?”

His eyes fluttered, making her pull back to brush her fingers along his closed lids. It was just like the first time, she still felt nervous.

Like they didn’t belong together at all.

The worst part was knowing how this would end. 

Him dead. Never knowing love or care or any kind of affection. She muffled a sob, curling up into him and pulling her legs up onto the couch.

They could be lonely together. 


	64. Ego pt 1 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John being full of himself during sex.

“More? How could I have done more?” John snarled, shooting daggers at her still form. For a lawyer, he was easy to read. From the questionable blunt held between tight lips and his narrowed eyes, he was showing all his cards. Displaying wrath in its truest form. She guessed that her lax hand dropping between her splayed thighs didn’t help either; the vein pulsing on his forehead told her that much.

“Dunno. You just spoke a big game is all.” She sighed at the first dip of her fingers inside her tight heat.

And he did promise big things. Looking back on it she was sure the only thing he delivered on was his physique. She jumped on him the moment he striped and she saw his cock. Large and leaking, red at the tip and surrounded by a trimmed bush. He was fit too, in the way rich people were. Going to their personal gym just to snap a few pics.

He was as rough as she expected when he fucked her. Sliding in without any warning and no prep at all. The stretch was delicious, making her heady with want. It was an intro into what she imagined would be the best sex she ever had.

Until it wasn’t.

Until his bucking hips were chasing his own pleasure instead of finding hers as well. He was rough--just as she expected--but the way he angled his hips and the rhythm he found made her squirm. Trying to help him, to force his cock to press on the little bundle of nerves inside her that would make her sing.

“I delivered.” John mumbled, he reached over to her, his hand finding her thigh and squeezing, leaving the harsh imprints of his nails. “You weren’t complaining when I was inside you.”

Rook huffed, eyes rolling as she recounted each awful moment. “Yeah, ‘cause I figured it would get better.” Her voice rose an octave higher as she slipped another finger inside only to arch them up, rubbing gently against her g-spot. The same place John couldn’t find. “I thought you were working up to the good part.”

She remembered how he purred enduring words in her ear, how his mouth found her breast and latched onto her rosy nipples to suck with fervor. He formed bruises and teeth marks all over her chest that made pride shine in his eyes. His hands smoothed over her waist, telling her how good he’d make her feel.

He was a cocky son of a bitch who no one ever told was a bad fuck.

Her thumb swirled around her clit, pushing down until her vision skewed. Blurring John’s angry, twisted expression and his softening cock against his thigh--in full view from where he sat at the end of the bed angled towards her.

“Glad you had fun though.” She laughed, drawing a blush from him as he shifted. Trying to cover up his cock; where cum was still leaking out.

If Rook thought about it for too long she could still feel how his hands wrapped around her throat, a smile on his lips telling her how such a thing would make her climax all the more intense. And she believed him, no one’s ever done that to her before, and maybe the only person she’d trust to hold her life in her hands was a person like John. A person who knew pain like an old friend. If she had actually came then she could’ve solved that mystery.

Instead John plunged into her harder, grabbing at her legs and forcing them over his shoulders so he could get deeper. He had mentioned something--gloating really--about how he could make her cum with just his cock. He could fuck her into the matress and the action of him repeatedly thrusting into her cunt would make her fall apart.

It didn’t. She never even got close. Though she put on a show for him, moaned and whined, asking him to go faster, harder, to do more. He came shortly after that. With his nose nuzzled into the side of her tit, his tongue pressing into her nipple to swirl ‘round and ‘round until he was breathing out her name with a pleased sigh.

And she was left bereft and wanting when he rolled off her.

This relationship they had, with him playing Judas and her being nothing more than a traitor, was hardly a commitment. As that was the case she figured she didn’t owe it to him at all to pretend. So instead of slipping out a window while he slept, gently lifting his arm curled around her waist to escape, she squirmed away from his grasp quickly to finish the job herself.

“It’s fine John. Not every man--”

“No! No you stop right there. You must’ve done something wrong.”

“You...you’re blaming me...for not finishing.”

He nodded sharply. Standing with a flourish and disappearing into his bathroom. Leaving her on his bed with her hand still working furiously between her folds. When he returned he was wearing a pastel red robe with his initials embroidered on the breast. He yanked the knot around his waist into place with a sigh. “I think you should leave.”

Her hand stuttered, pausing in her movements before her body protested and a sharp stabbing warmth made her continue.

“Why?” Her head lolled back against his mountain of pillows, spreading herself wider to draw his eyes to her dripping pussy. “Thought you didn’t like sleeping alone.”

“I--I don’t. But I won’t, under any circumstances, accept this kind of slander in my own home!”

Rook pouted, her bottom lip jutting out playfully. Fixing him with those puppy dog eyes that made him bend to her will, tonight though he looked away. Gaze falling to his floorboards.

“Is that what you really want?”

“Yes.”

Fine. That was fine. She knew how to get under his skin, she knew what made him tick. Her free hand, the one not busy rubbing around her nub, reached for her phone left discarded on the bedside table.

A few taps later on the screen and pointedly ignoring John’s angry mutterings and pacing, she pushed it to her ear. “Jacob?”

John’s head snapped towards her, confusion mingling in with that anger he wore so well.

“Mhm. Yeah. I just--” Her breath hitched upon hearing the low rumble of the eldest’s voice. “I just need…yeah, that’s right. You know me well by now, huh?” She pulled the phone back just enough for John to hear Jacob’s low, sultry chuckle. Followed by his teasing words of, “don’t worry pup, I’ll come getcha myself.”

She came like that, thinking about how well Jacob would fuck her. How his voice would sound past the obscene noise of skin slapping skin. John watched with greedy eyes, palming at himself through the fabric covering his dick, as she came around three of her fingers.

Rook hopped up off the bed with ease. Scooping up her clothing to saunter over to him. She slid into the loose outfit when she had his full attention, when she knew he had gotten a proper eyeful. She hesitated at his side, turning just a tad to offer him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

As an after though she splayed her slick covered fingers, cringing before wiping them off on the expensive material of his robe.

“Maybe you could take some advice from big brother, hm? God that man knows how it’s meant to be done.” She trailed her hand down his chest, ending at his cock and giving it a playful squeeze. “I’ll give you a couple weeks to lick your wounds in private. In the meantime, I’ve got someone else who can actually hold up to his words.”


	65. Arranged Marriage (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night after an arranged marriage between Rook and John where he insists they consummate their marriage; with a begrudging Rook who quickly changes her tune

“Oh fuck you.” 

John laughed at her. A smile changing his features, making him seem lively. _Nice_ even. It was a goddamn joke seeing as not even 24 hours ago he was holding her underwater with a knee digging between her shoulder blades in the shallow shoreside. 

“I’d rather fuck _you_ , dear.” 

Rook sneered at his words. She didn’t doubt for a second that he had been sitting on that for a while. Waiting to make her swoon, to pair together the perfect set of words that would finally sway her to his side of things. 

And if that didn’t work then an impromptu marriage would do just fine apparently. Their matching wedding bands were evidence of that. 

“We can’t _not_ consummate such a heavenly creation. It would be wrong. Almost sinful.” He sighed, taking a step towards her with a hand outstretched. Wiggling his fingers at her as if that would entice her. “At least that’s what Joseph preaches.” 

She squirmed her way further up his bed. For the first time unthankful for John’s plush mattress that she was completely sinking into. Making it harder to scramble away. 

He caught her easily. A hand around her ankle. “When’s the last time you’ve indulged yourself, Rook? When you could freely feel your fingers inside you without any sort of threat? More importantly, when’s the last time a cock has stretched you out so fucking perfectly?” John chuckled at her shyness. Tipping his head to find her eyes when she turned her cheek to focus on the floorboards. 

“Cause I can remember my last time.” He climbed onto the bed with her. Moving fast and with purpose, stood up on his knees and too close. “It was...about two months ago. It’s hard to get around Joseph’s teachings, to make sure no one hears. It’s easier to go at it alone. So I did.” He looked pleased with himself. Drawing her attention when his hand fell to his crotch. 

“The way my hand felt around my dick. Fuck.” It’d been a while before that. Came too fast.” His head tipped forward with the memory, leaning against her shoulder. She didn’t move away from it despite the shiver that ran through her. Her body froze, breath stuttering from his story. “I can hardly remember how good it feels to have someone warm and tight wrapped around me. Squeezing me and being so good.” John nuzzled his nose up, right into her neck where he laid a kiss there. 

“Let me show you how good it can be for the two of us.”

She quirked an eyebrow, aware he couldn't see her flushed cheeks. “And if I say no?” 

“Then I’ll stop. Because it’ll taste so much sweeter when you submit.” When you say yes when the unspoken addition. Smart man. He knew what would set her off, and he knew full well that reciting such a line would end up with him having to explain a crooked nose. 

“C’mon. Clothes off.” He said it so casually, like it was routine. Standing on solid ground to follow his own orders. Rook was content with watching, wary of the man in front of her. She kept her eyes locked on him as he unbuttoned his vest—careful not to pull at the seams—to remove his shirt underneath. “Your turn, Rook. This is meant to be a give and take relationship.”

Internally she cringed at the term. Relationship was a loose word for this phony marriage. She huffed in protest, annoyance flaring in her eyes. The thought of him looking her up and down like a piece of meat wasn’t at all appealing. And he wasn’t subtle about it. He caught his lip with his teeth, hands on his hips to watch her. 

She grabbed the hem of her shirt, crossing her arms and yanking up. A pang of lust stabbed low in her stomach when she felt her breasts bounce at the quick movement and saw his eyes follow. 

Her hands reached behind her, fiddling with the clasp before throwing caution to the wind and tearing her bra away from her body. The cold air that hit her skin made goosebumps break out along her ribs. “Happy?” 

He sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering briefly. “Mmm, we’re getting there.” John’s hand dropped to his belt, running his thumb along the Project’s insignia before tugging at the leather. The boxers he wore were a deep black. Not quite showing off the curve of his dick. Or how large he was. It wasn’t a bad view though. She shifted where she sat, thighs clenching tight together. 

“Need help?” He offered, voice hushed, just as his fingers hooked in the waistband of his underwear. With a flourish he bent and chucked off the last piece of fabric covering him. His dick, already more than halfway there, jumped out enthusiastically. 

Rook grabbed his hand when it was left hanging. Letting him pull her to her feet effortlessly. He yanked her too hard—the bastard—making her fall into his chest. It was bare skin against bare skin. All heat and an uneven surface riddled with scars. 

His hands moved to her pants when she showed no sign of continuing. He eased her jeans down, coaxing both her legs up and out. Leaving her in her panties with him crouched on the ground eye level with her covered pussy. 

“Oh, perfect.” He murmured. Nuzzling his cheek into the thin fabric. Licking up a stripe right over where her clit was. “Go. Lie down.” With a gentle tug she was fully naked in front of him. At least it was a level playing field. Though that didn’t stop the tight knot in her stomach as she fell back onto the mattress. 

His eyes were bright for once. Not with the adrenaline that came from witnessing someone’s fear first hand—this was different. It made her question who this man behind the persona of the Baptist really was.

“Where’d your mind run off to?” He mumbled softly, climbing on top of her. Pushing her back and moving to straddle her thighs. He kissed up her body as he went, nipping at her inner thigh and along her ribs. “Hmm? Don’t ignore me.” Followed by a harsher bite below her breast. 

Rook didn’t want to reveal her soft underbelly. Not to him. Not to someone pretending to be her husband, content to play house. So she ignored his question. “Of course you're a talker in bed. I could’ve guessed that. You love the sound of your own voice.” 

He scoffed. Like worse things had never been said about him. “You’d rather me be quiet? Would that make you stay?” 

She decided not to answer that. Fists balling up into the sheets below her. Trying not to let out any sort of noises as he toyed with her. Leaving marks on her skin from sucking her skin. A bruise on her breast and one on her collarbone before he drew his hand lower and lower until he reached her folds. Right where she knew she was wet, leaking onto his sheets, staining it a darker color as evidence of her enjoyment. 

He pushed in a slow, tentative finger, searching and prodding at her sex. Then he was sinking all the way in, up to his second knuckle where he curled upwards. Pressing onto a sensitive bundle of nerves that made her legs twitch. 

It was too much. The pleasure of it all, how he massaged that spot inside her that made her squirm. “Is that all it takes? Do you even need my cock?” He was back to talking again, teasing. 

She knew what he wanted her to say. He wanted to hear her beg. To finally say yes, even if it wasn’t to confess. 

A second finger was added with the first when she didn’t respond. It was a tight fit. Just slick enough though to slide inside. 

He thrusted in and out of her, finger fucking her fast and rough. Still kissing her. Not willing to let her forget who was touching her. It was hard not to with his beard running against her jaw. 

He pulled back to stare at her, breathless and panting as he brushed his thumb along her jaw gently. He leaned down and kissed her softly one last time, a peck that made her desperate for what he just showed he could do. She didn’t dare touch him. Keeping her hands on the blankets even if she itched to trail her fingers up his side, to pull him closer and deepen the kiss he gave her.

Instead she tipped her head to the side, away from him. Hips squirming upward involuntarily as he rocked against her, letting her feel his cock. Showing her just how much he wanted her.

Her fingers clung to the head board when he found her g-spot and circled that spot madly. Smiling at the way she whined. A sudden spark of pleasure made her yelp, hands suddenly moving from the wood of his bed to his shoulders in a moment of desperation. He moved in closer at her touch, lining himself up. “Ahh, there we go,” he hummed, “I was beginning to think you had too much pride to touch me.” 

He pushed in gently with a sigh. Eyes closing with a hushed mumble of “fuck.” He started to move, up and down, going oh-so slowly, making her feel every inch. Rook adjusted to his length quickly, brows scrunching down when he hit a spot inside her that made her cry out. He took that as a sign to start moving a little faster, but John wanted more. 

He grabbed hold of her hands where they still rested on his shoulder and moved to put them above her head. Holding her wrists together with only one of his hands, forcing her to push out her chest and arch her back. Not that he seemed to mind seeing as his eyes tracked the way her breasts bounce. 

His thrusts were fast and hard, picking up speed as he hit that perfect spot deep inside her. A tiny whimper finally escaped her lips. 

“Let go for me, c’mon, make me _proud,”_ John snarled through clenched teeth. That’s all that she needed to push her over the edge, combined with the sudden finger circling her clit. Her body shook below him as she rode out her orgasm, tightening around his cock and pulling him to his release as well.

John stilled above her as he came deep within her. The lack of a condom making her squirm almost immediately. Legs kicking out as she shoved at his shoulders. Fingers itching to wrap around his neck.

She didn’t realize that’s exactly where they had gone until he choked. Eyes widening at her sudden bravado. 

“Be careful, darling,” John murmured, unlatching her fingers from around his throat to roll off of her, “don’t tease me, I doubt you’re ready for round two.” His gaze fell between her legs, where she was leaking, to focus on her swollen pussy lips. 

He slapped at her cunt, right over her sensitive clit, retreating quickly as she swatted out to hit him. 

“Fuck you, John.”

“I think you just did, sweetheart. I wouldn’t mind going again though.” 


	66. Mine (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hudson has a crush on Rook and John finds out. Being possessive of Rook, he captures her and fucks her right in front of Hudson to prove his point

John was skilled at what he did. There was a reason he was in charge of confessions. He knew what worked, how to make people speak. Or more accurately, scream. 

And when they finally broached the topic of lust—God only knew how many days and nights that took—long enough for scars to form and wounds to close. Long enough for John to grow violent at the drop of a hat, patience wearing thin. When she opened up about that sin, he was more than receptive. It was like throwing a dog a bone. 

Finally she was speaking. Finally she was spilling her guts to him. He caught her on a bad day. A little more tired, more achy, more than ready to sleep outside of a cell for once with a proper matress. That’s how she let it slip. Letting him in on her crush on a certain deputy.

Oh how his nostrils flared at that. Anger lighting up his eyes. He struck her once and marred her cheek with a blade still dirty with her blood from days past. He stormed out of his ‘confessional’ room, coattails flying behind him. Hudson was left strapped in that chair overnight. Up until John came storming back in early next morning with Rook in tow, who was dragging her feet and making his efforts as difficult as she could.

Hudson couldn’t help but feel a stab of pride at that. At least someone didn’t give up just yet. Cursing even with the gag stretching her lips wide. 

“Look who I’ve brought to our little reunion. Now we’ve got a party!” He laughed at that, shoving Rook a tad too hard, making her stumble over her feet. Knees slamming down against the cement floor right in front of Hudson. Her hands were bound at the wrists—turning purple—making it impossible for her to catch herself. 

She looked horrible. Sporting a black eye and a busted lip. Her clothes were even in shambles, ripped at the shoulder like someone grabbed her too hard. Though there was a fire there. After all she’s been through she hadn’t lost that spark, the same one that made Hudson fall in love. 

“I swear to god if you hurt her—“

“Hurt her?” He drew a hand up to his chest, “now why would I do that to someone who I so adamantly adore?”

Oh.

That’s what this was then. Rubbing it in that John could get his hands on a pretty little thing like Rook.

“That’s not why she’s here. No, she’s in our company to prove a point. Everyone can learn from this.” John nodded once, a smile coming across his face as he stripped himself of his coat, rolling up his sleeves with a wink when Rook craned her neck around to watch him. 

John’s hand dropped to his waist, tugging at his belt as he watched the two of them squirm. “Both of you should pay close attention. I’m not against dolling out punishments.” He made quick work off his jeans. Tearing down the zipper with a jerk of his wrist just as Rook began to wriggle from her spot on the floor.

Her eyes were wide. Pleading and reassuring at the same time as she nuzzled into Hudson’s thigh. It sent a bolt of warmth through her stomach. Making her eyes dart away as an uneasy breath escaped her. 

“I’m so sorry Hudson, I tried—“

“Hey!” John jerked Rook up by her hair. “That’s not why I brought you here.” Hudson saw Rook’s eyes go wide as he huddled in closer to her, yanking her back to his chest. His cock nudging against her thighs, making her stumble. 

Right into Hudson. Basically on her lap. John Seed was going to fuck Rook on her lap. 

John peppered kisses up her neck, turning her head just so to kiss her lips. His hands squeezed her chest and held her tightly as his lips moved over her skin. He broke away from her, both of them panting and breathless. Faces flushed. 

John hesitated for a moment as he stared into her eyes, debating something in his mind. He used his free hand—the one not wrapped securely around her waist—and ran his fingers through her hair lightly to pull her back into him. His hands pawing at her with urgency.

His lips grazed over her jaw after he checked to make sure Hudson was still watching, his beard rubbing roughly against her skin. He let his hand roam over her exposed body, down her stomach, until he buried his fingers in her wet heat. Hudson saw (fuck it was hard not to notice) how Rook shifted her body back to align him with her entrance, back arching ever so slightly. Making her chest puff out. Drawing Hudson’s eyes. 

She felt her throat go dry at the sight. 

“Just look at her Deputy Hudson. Look because you are never going to be able to touch this. She’s mine.” He jerked his hips forward, sliding the last few inches home. “Mine to touch.” A harsh thrust. One that made Rook moan. “And mine to fuck.” Another snap of his hips. 

She fit around him perfectly once he was inside her fully. Both remained still, breathing hard already, lazily kissing each other when John offered his mouth again. Rook’s fingers twitched where they were still tied in front of her. Maybe eager to touch him. To thread her own hands through his beard, to tug him closer, to deepen the kiss.

Rook started to rock her hips against his, needing some kind of friction, he groaned as she moved, letting her control the pace as he continued to kiss her lips softly. The way she squirmed back into him made her bump into Hudson repeatedly. Making it impossible for her to forget what was going on mere inches away. 

They were just far apart enough for Hudson to see his tongue invade her mouth, tangling with Rook’s. He began meeting her hips with thrusts of his own, keeping a deliberately relaxed pace. Making her needy if her desperate noises were anything to go by. Finally John pulled back, their mouths no longer connected as he kissed the place just below her ear, whispering gentle praises to her. 

“You’re perfect… So perfect…” His voice was low, just loud enough for Hudson to hear.

A harder thrust made Rook topple over, practically falling into her arms. Leaving Rook to dangle right in front of Hudon’s face. John was the only thing from keeping her fully supported. The quick change of angle made Rook yelp, pushing his cock deeper. He moved a bit faster, knowing she was getting close.

“John…” She moaned as she arched her back again. Her breasts hung heavy, bouncing rhythmically, drawing Hudon’s eyes for a second time before she redirected it to Rook’s face. Which wasn’t hard to do, she was only five inches away. Eye level. She could feel each stuttered breath puffing across her face. 

She tried searching for any trace of discontent. Anything showing that Rook wasn’t enjoying it. 

She didn’t find anything like that. 

John grunted something obscene sounding as he pounded into her, coaching her to release in the shell of her ear. He watched her come undone around him before he found his own release inside her. Hudon saw her entire body go lax. Head lolling forward to rest on her shoulder. 

He remained inside her. Eyes locking with Hudon’s. “See? Could you ever do something like this, Deputy? Could you make her feel this good?”

John hefted her up into his chest, off of Hudon fully and into his arms. He untangled himself from her, finally pulling his cock out with a wet schlick. 

He regained his composure quickly. Barely panting, so different from Rook who’s eyes were still a little hazy. “You Deputy Hudson, you stay here. Reflect on what you’ll tell me when I get back. I’d hate to put you through this again.”

The smug smile he wore was such a clear contradiction of his words. But when has he ever cared about something like that?


	67. Dinner Romance pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John captures Rook just to have dinner

It was getting worse. 

God help her, but it was getting so much worse. 

Escaping John’s lackluster rent-a-soldiers was hardly difficult, the furthest thing from it, actually. They dragged her away from his table and out the door and expected her _not_ to run. Shame on them.

But if she knew what he was bound to do in the coming weeks then she would’ve stayed. Let his fantasy run it’s proper course. It would’ve saved her so much embarrassment. 

The constant radio calls she could put up with. It was normal. People expected the Seeds to speak to her—to threaten her. In the end, John was more like a school yard bully. So long as she ignored him, he’d stop. And he did. Her friends stopped teasing her about John’s adoration and wandering resistance members she was hell bent on saving were no longer wary of her. 

Then the gifts came. An assortment of them appearing at Fall’s End, right on the doorstep of their church. That in itself made her angry. He was practically flaunting his power over them. Making her all the more suspicious of the brown box taped shut that Jerome handed off to her with a curious raise of his eyebrows. Probably wanting to know how a package could still be sent in an active war zone. To explain why it had her name on it at the very least. 

She would do nothing of the sort. This was her business and her business alone. When she was tucked away in a back room of the Spread Eagle, her home for now, she sliced it open with care. 

Realizing a second too late that it could be rigged with a damn bomb. 

She sucked in a breath at what she found. All sorts of clothes. Soft clothes at that. Silky, smooth fabric that made her fingers ache under their foreign feel. Expensive too if she knew anything about fashion. With a note laying on top of it all. 

_I’m getting sick of our game of cat and mouse, my dear. Though I know you well, catching you again would only make matters worse. I’m afraid it would excesterbate your anger. I hope this could be a peace offering, something for you to see what life you could have if you came to me. —John Seed_

If she wasn’t so tired, Rook would be mad. Livid actually. But that’s the thing, wasn’t it? Living the way she had been, running on empty for months without a proper home and missing meals as well as sleepless nights had taken their toll on her. So instead she pulled out the items one by one with a gentle care. When was the last time someone’s spent money on her? When someone expressed their gratitude?

A lump formed in her throat when she grabbed a matching set of pajamas. They were soft, she imagined they’d feel heavenly on her skin. They’d be perfect if she didn’t sleep with one eye open and never bothered changing—easier to get up and run if need be. 

The socks were a winner though. A full set, ranging from back to a deep navy blue. They went on in mere seconds, her shoes kicked off across the side of the room and her old tattered socks tossed in the bin. 

“Fuck.” Rook massaged her arch with a sigh. Surely she could take his gifts? That didn’t mean loyalty. She was just desperate. It was okay to use him so long as it didn’t go further than that. She was sure just about anyone would take a millionaire’s presents. 

Her radio, sat unforgotten clipped onto her belt, suddenly felt heavy. Her eyes shut as she breathed in deep. If she didn’t mention this to John he’d be sure to make his presence known, and at this point she was afraid at what the next step was. She couldn’t ignore him any longer, that wasn’t working.

“John? You there?”

The response was instant, like he had been waiting for days, keeping his radio nearby just in case he caught her on a bad day. “Deputy! What a pleasant surprise. Here I was thinking you had forgotten about me.”

“You, uh, kinda been making that impossible.”

“So you _have_ been getting my calls. You’ve been ignoring me?”

“What the hell was I supposed to say?”

“Anything! Maybe a ‘hello’ if nothing more. Just to let me know you were listening, that you were okay. I’ve been worried about you. Getting second hand reports from my siblings instead of hearing it from you.” 

Rook sighed. Twisting her back and wincing at the crack that resonated through the room. 

“Sorry?”

She heard John hum low in his throat, a sound that made her insides clench from something other than unease. “There we go,” he murmured gently, sounding like his lips were right against the receiver, spoken directly in her ear. “That’s all I wanted. Thank you.”

Okay...now she was confused. Getting whiplash at this new side of him he was showing her. She must’ve been quiet for too long, because he was speaking again. An impatient tone tinging his voice. “Did you receive my gift?” 

Rook hesitated a beat too long. 

“Rook? C’mon, I thought we finally made a breakthrough.” 

“Yes.” She finally relented. “I did.”

“And?” 

She almost laughed. Lips twitching. He was cute when he was on edge. Chomping at the bit for her to respond. “And what? Hope you don’t expect anything in return.”

“Of course not. But did you at least try them on? Do they fit? Do you like the colors, the style? How about the panties?”

The...the what? 

Sure enough when she peeked back inside the box and rummaged around there were an assortment of panties lying at the bottom. Some of very little fabric...oh dear god that one was crotchless.

She spoke before thinking. “Kinda sinful, John.”

“Yes, well, you are a sinner. Aren’t you, Rook?”

She leaned back on her flat pillows, remembering John’s bed, how soft it was. How warm. “You got me there.” 

He spoke over her like she hadn't said a thing. “But you’re _my_ sinner. And I’d like to put an offer on the table.”

Rook hummed in lieu of answering. 

“Come back to my ranch. Let me treat you, dear.” 

She was silent. Checking around her, surveying her small room, hearing the bustling of patrons down below her getting their fix in the bar. How easy would it be for John to storm this place and drag her back to him by the roots of her hair? He wrote that he wouldn't, but he was an angry desperate man capable of terrible things. 

She was trapped. 

“Fine.”

There was a sound on the other end, like he knocked something over in his haste to respond. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“I-I can send a car. Or--”

“No.” She hissed, “Are you _that_ stupid? What will people think seeing a van with your men come pick me up?”

“I...I didn’t think about that.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, an angry sigh leaving her lips. “No. Of course you didn’t. Look, I’ll get there on my own.”

“Are you sure? What if—“

“ _Yes._ I’m sure. I’m more than capable.”

There was a giddiness in his voice when he said his goodbyes and gave her his best wishes for her trip. 

What the hell did she get herself into?

*****

Rook didn’t even have to knock. He must’ve watched her pull up in her beat up car and stomp up his drive. He swung his doors open wide and fucking _smiled._ “Darling,” he cooed, reaching out to grab her hands. 

Out of self preservation she didn’t move a muscle. Let him guide her inside to his main living space. And it was breathtaking. He heard her gasp, saw how her eyes widened as she spun in a small circle. 

“Do you like?” 

Right. Right, this was John she was dealing with. A man who lived off of praise. 

“It’s gorgeous. How…?”

“I had help.” He shrugged as if it were nothing. Like the intricate tapestries hung up and the chandeliers holding pink bulbs didn’t take any effort at all. She couldn’t take her eyes off the flowers and finely scented candles that were scattered around the room. 

He knew exactly how to woo someone. 

“All this just to get in my pants?” She laughed, taking a step forward to collapse on the leather couch. Looking up when he didn’t laugh with her. He looked pensive, biting down on his lip. 

“No. No that’s not what this is about. Why does everyone think that’s all that matters to me?”

Everyone?

John was pacing, raking a hand through his immaculate hair. Tugging at the sleeves of his black suit jacket he chose for the night. “I fucking care about you Rook. If I didn’t I could easily have fucked you by now.”

Okay, now it was her turn to be offended. “Yeah, do I come off that easy?”

“That’s not…” he huffed, eyeing the space next to her before sitting down gingerly. Looking uncomfortable, like it wasn’t his home at all. “I’m used to getting laid. It’s second nature. But I’ve never...courted anyone before.”

“Courted?” She smiled wide, laughing at how his cheeks turned pink. “Oh my god.” She leaned forward, a hand on his knee to draw his attention. “Well I’m flattered, Johnny.”

He blushed hard at that, even the tips of his ears grew pink at her laughter. He was shy almost. And the thought that she was probably the only one in Hope County who could make her do that made her feel powerful. It was an ego trip.

“You should be,” he jested, voice dropping into a hushed whisper. “I’m a catch.” His smile was back now, as small as it was. Real too, it was there. Visible when they were sharing the same breath. 

“Alright. I’ll play along, then. Whatcha got planned?” 

John squirmed under her gaze, maybe afraid she wouldn’t approve. But when he found her gaze again and all she did was raise her eyebrows he finally spoke up. “A picnic. I—I planned a picnic.”

Rook blinked slowly. Taking in his words before she smiled wide. “After all the work you did in here?” 

“We--I thought maybe...If you’d like, that we’d come back here.”

“And do what?”

John made some sort of noise she couldn’t identify. A halfhearted unsure noise. “Just...hang?” Those words felt wrong coming out of his mouth. Too normal and personable.

She considered for a moment before giving in. “Fine. Lead the way.” Oh how his eyes lit up at her words. He jumped off the couch, a hand wrapped tight around her wrist to lead her. Eager like a child as he lead her outside. Uncaring that his guards watched them closely with suspicion in their eyes. Though she didn’t miss the anger behind those beautiful blues when someone made a biting remark towards her under their breath. 

She deserved to treat herself, didn’t she? After all she’s done to help Hope’s people, without any sort of thank you, this should be fine. Dining with the enemy was just putting a decent meal in her belly instead of a cold can of expired beans she found hidden at the back of a cupboard.

So she felt no sense of guilt when John helped her sit on an already laid out blanket at the water’s edge behind his house. Near a small shack that, from the small peak inside she got, housed a sea plane reminiscent of Carmina. 

This night was gorgeous to sit outside, moonlight reflecting off the water and making it sparkle. Good night for a late swim, maybe some fishing with a couple of beers to make her feel warm.

“Good night for a baptism, hm?” 

Well...there were really two types of people in Hope County.

“That’s not where my mind went, but yeah. If you’re into being drowned I suppose it’s a nice night for that.” She shushed him when he went to speak, knowing how quickly they could delve into such an old argument. “Relax John. I’m not in the mood to bicker. I’m fucking starved.” 

John smiled at that, reaching to the side to grab an open mouthed basket that reminded her of the easter baskets she got as a child. Though this one looked new, like he’s never used it before now. Maybe he didn’t have a reason to use such a thing. Under different circumstances she’d feel special, flattered even. 

The meal wasn’t fantastic. Not the kind of thing she expected from John after their last encounter. It was simple, something her parents would make after a long day of work. John read people well, asking a soft “do you not like it? We can go back to the house, I did spend all day decorating, call my chef to--”

“Your chef?” Rook paused, the sub he handed to her halfway to her mouth. 

“I...Yes. My chef.”

“God, you’re so pretentious.” 

With how dark it was it was hard to see him properly. Though she’d put money on the fact that he was blushing again. “I am not.”

“You said it like it was nothing. _My chef._ As if it’s normal.” Rook took a large bite of her sandwich, suppressing a groan at the explosion of flavors. Okay, maybe it wasn’t as simple as it looked. It was better than she’s eaten since she had crashed into this place. 

“Well it is for me. And...and, uh.” He stammered, words dying off as he shook his head, looking away from her. Not digging into his own food, seeming nervous.

“And?” She prodded.

“And it could be your normal too. If you’d like.”

She chewed slowly, processing his words. Was he propositioning her? Because the thought of a fresh meal everyday sounded glorious. He caught her on a bad week. One spent stalked by wolves and covered in Angel guts.

John shifted, curling his legs under him like a young boy. “Maybe you could start eating lunch with me. If you’d like. Jacob said you looked thinner last he saw you.”

“Well Jacob brings that out in people. Y’know, with the lack of food he gives.”

John’s head snapped up quick, an ugly flash of anger flickering across his face. “I promise I won’t let him do that again. I’ve already spoken to him, you don’t need to worry about my brother. If he ever puts you in one of those cages again…” John blew out a puff of air through his nose, shoulders sagging. 

“I’m fine John.”

“You went MIA for the last two weeks.” Then quieter, softer with a glint in his eyes she couldn’t place, “I thought he killed you.” 

“I was fine. Just hurt.”

“Because of Jacob.” 

Rook took a third bite to avoid saying anything else. She couldn’t exactly dispute that, Jacob was the one who put her off the streets. Speaking ill of Jacob, someone he so clearly looked up to, could very well be a trap, really she still couldn’t wrap her head around what his goal was. 

John finally started eating. There was a strange warmth seeing him take care of himself for once. The man was thin, his clothes tight, showing off every little curve and dip of his body. From his narrow hips to his too flat stomach. Why wasn’t anyone keeping an eye on him?

“You’re staring.” He mumbled around a mouthful of chips.

“Thinking.”

“About? And keep eating, after what Jacob did…”

She acquiesced, leaning back on her palms to admire him in the low light. “You’re really not all that bad, John.”

She saw him froze, every muscle in his body locking up with her praise. “I thought you were a monster, but, well, you’ve got your moments. Like now, I like when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Normal.” Rook put her food down, brushing the crumbs off on her jeans to get closer to him. Sitting on her knees in front of him she placed hands on his shoulders to pull him in. “You just need someone, huh?” She was sure the whole county knew how much he wanted attention. That he was absolutely starved for it. “You can be sweet so long as someone’s there taking care of you.” 

John floundered, searching for words. Instead he shut up, head tipped down to avoid her gaze. He was quiet for a while, focusing instead on the lapping motions of the river. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She hummed, only hesitating for half a second before pulling him in. She wrapped her arms around the breadth of his shoulders for a hug. The squeak he let out said it all. This was the furthest thing from a trap. He really wanted her, he just needed some sort of life outside all the atrocities he committed. 

Still he hadn’t moved to reciprocate. Hands folded in his lap, pointedly not touching her. “What are you doing?” He whispered softly. 

Rook didn’t answer, didn’t see a reason to. Moving back to lay a kiss to his forehead. “You’re one complicated man, you know that?”

He pouted. “I’m not.” 

“No?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, in that case,” She made a move to stand, stretching out the kinks of her muscles when she was on her feet. “Guess I should be going then, since this was nothing special.”

John was on her before she could make it three steps. Wrapping strong arms around her waist to pull her back into his chest. “Don’t.”

“What do you need, John?” 

“Just...stay. For one night. Nothing more, I’ll be a gentleman, I swear.”

Rook laughed at that, though it lacked any heat. After all, her stomach was fluttering like crazy. “I know, Johnny. I know.”


	68. Wizard!John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizard John who was abused due to having magic

His parents said he was unholy. That each confession he deigned to give them when the pain got to be too much was never enough. That he must be hiding something. He’d have to scramble to offer up a sin that he didn’t bear to stop his whip from ruining his skin.

But they weren’t wrong. That was the worst part of it all. When he stared in the mirror, tracing fresh lashes with his eyes, he knew what his parents meant when they said he was hiding something.

So the night after his eleventh birthday he stepped into the living room, only passing the threshold when his father acknowledged him with a nod of his head. His entire body was shaking, something he tried to hide by putting his hands behind his back and clutching his fingers tight. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his teeth from clattering. All things his parents said were signs of someone hiding something.

“Father? Mother?”

There was a beat of silence before they descended on him like a pack of wolves, hungry for the meat he was about to offer up on a silver platter in the form of the secrets they wouldn’t allow him to have.

“Yes Johnathan?”

He bit his cheek harder until he tasted the familiarity of blood. John. He wanted to scream it. His name was John. He didn't have many memories of his brothers, didn’t really remember what they looked like, just the bluest eyes he could only assume matched his own and a blur of dark hair on them both. He couldn’t even be sure of those facts. But he knew they called him John; because that was his name. John, not Johnathan.

In a few seconds he was sure that would be the least of his issues.

“I have something I’d like to confess. If you have the time for my sins, of course.” Make it seem like an option, like you weren’t demanding anything, not even the attention children needed.

His mother and father sat him down at the kitchen table and waited with bated breath for him to speak. And speak he did. He told them everything. About what he was, the powers he had. How he wasn’t sure what the term for it was. Wizard, warlock, sorcerer, enchanter. They didn’t have different meanings to him. It all boiled down to the same thing.

The reaction was shock-horror. Then came the anger. Their unrelenting punishment that got him thirty lashes and ruined knees from how he knelt on rice for five hours straight. Plus the lack of sleep. They kept him in the kitchen, grilled him until the sun rose and he had to go off to school.

When he came home it was the same deal. Pain and punishment and questions he couldn’t answer.

Late at night, when he was allowed to retire to his room two hours before he had to get up in the morning, he practiced the magic he knew he had. Did it over and over until his fingers ached and he wanted to skip school.

His parents doubled his punishments. Never asking what his sin was that day because now they knew. John had never felt more alone. He couldn't remember if his brothers were like him, but that hardly mattered, because they weren’t here. He had to deal with this himself.

So each night, with bleeding cuts on his back, he prayed for God to relieve him of his sin. To take away his magic so he could be pure.

As he grew he learned to hide his powers. He kept them under lock and key, and he got good at it. His parents, after countless nights of beatings, finally believed him that it was gone. The sins festered inside him had been pushed out. They invited their pastor over like some sick birthday celebration.

He still prayed each night that his magic would be gone. Every morning he’d test it out himself only to be sorely disappointed.

Life went on.

He skated through law school at the top of his class and gladly took his parents money when they passed. He still had nightmares about that, their death. How he’d come home, on holiday break for Christmas, and he knew he couldn’t take it anymore that first day back. In his mid twenties and still under his parents thumbs. Taking beatings and putting scars on his already ruined skin.

It all clicked that this was what he had been waiting for. Those years as a child he spent thinking to himself that things were going to change once he was bigger than them. That time had come without him realizing it.

He killed them. It only seemed fitting to do it with his magic. To let his powers spill from his fingertips and let ancient sayings come from his tongue, all things that had his parents shaking before they laid dead.

John kept that little secret to himself. He felt shame bubbling up inside him whenever he thought of his brothers. His protectors. If they weren’t like him would they understand? Would they know about the human psyche? That it was only a matter of time that he would snap.

So when Joseph showed up at his work, wearing hand me downs and sporting greasy hair all tied up, John was terrified. He knew it was his brother, those memories were hazy but that kind, soft spoken voice and his gentle smile said it all.

He clutched Joseph tight, buried his face into his neck and cried. He cried for all the pain and suffering and loneliness. All that he had to face that turned him into what he is today. Maybe one day, if they ever found Jacob (If not when, he wasn’t naive) maybe he would tell them all about what he was and the things he had done.

But for now, he was content to cry in his brother’s arms and relish in the feeling of safety for the first time in years.


	69. CPS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a child that he is unaware about and child protection shows up at his doorstep with his kid

John didn’t know what he had done wrong this time. But he was woken up—quite rudely he might add—with Joseph’s panicked face inches from his and a rough vice grip on his shoulder.

He wasn’t a school boy anymore, couldn’t even remember the last time he slept past his alarm. Which meant—“Christ, it’s early Joe. What do you want?”

His eyes flicked to the glowing numbers of the clock. 6:26. Early for him at least.

Joseph persisted, hissing out a tight “you gotta see this. C’mon. I need you downstairs and dressed and just,” he huffed, running a hand through loosely tied hair, “just look your best.”

John knew what that meant. And he was wide awake in an instant because of those implications. Legal issues. Again. Joseph wanted him to play lawyer, to look like the clean cut rich boy who got his name in the paper.

He could play that act well. That wasn’t the problem. It was the fear on Joseph’s face.

He stumbled, rushing to put his feet in his pants. Trying to best to make his way over to his window. He buckled up his jeans just as he pulled back the curtains a tad.

His heart clenched at what he saw.

A CPS van. With big, green blocked letters that was none too subtle. And just about a dozen suits on his property. Crap.

John ducked away before anyone noticed him creeping. Chose his best outfit, a white button up that he couldn’t decide would look better with a black vest or a striped tie. He weighed the options and ultimately went with the vest—more casual. Like he wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything.

John took his time descending the stairs. Going over what could’ve brought child services knocking on his door. They weren’t police, wouldn’t show up unless their case was related to him and him alone. The kids he had under his reign in Holland Valley were all safe in his bunker lest things in the county with the resistance got too bad like it had in the past. No custody disputes or abuse. He made sure of that.

Why did they want him? What the hell did he do?

He was going to throw up. That thought hit him hard. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a hand against his sternum as bile rose in the back of his throat.

“John?”

He flicked his eyes up to his brother, turned away from their company so only John could see the panic lingering on every line of his face. “There you are.”

“This is him?” A new voice, a new face. Dressed just as well as him but she had something he didn’t. Authority. Power that he couldn’t have when he was just a man to them and not the Baptist many others worshiped. “John Seed?”

“Yes,” John stepped in, a soft smile towards his brother first because the poor man looked like he was going to keel over, then directed towards the woman who seemed to be running things. “That’s me.” He extended his hand in a shake. All formalities when he still didn’t understand this situation.

“Excuse me for being crass,” he began softly, still clutching her hand and leaning in close, “but I saw the CPS van out front and I don’t see what that has to do with me, ma’am.”

“Yes, i suppose that does need explaining.” Then quickly, like she could sense Joseph's overarching dread, “you’re not in any trouble. Far from it, Mr. Seed.”

He cringed at the title. “John. Call me John. And, uh, how about we take a seat. I have a feeling this might take a while.”

He sent Joseph away with a hand on his shoulder and a whispered order in his ear. _Get Jacob and Faith here, get our flock in proper order and please make sure no ones walking around with guns for Christ sake._

Now it was just him and a couple suits.

John folded his legs one over the other, brow raised expectantly. “So…” he usually wasn’t so awkward, always had a million things to say. But now, this was different. A child was involved, and that meant court cases and paperwork and the end of Eden's Gate if he was the one in trouble.

“First off, name’s Samantha, and like I said, you aren’t in any kind of trouble.”

“But this issue does concern me somehow, yes?”

She laughed, sharing a smile with her partner who sat to her left, “yes it certainly does. First off,” she paused to grab at a stack of files she discarded on the coffee table. Flipping through until she came to the one she was looking for and slid it over to John.

His breath caught instantly at who he saw staring back at him. Rook. His Rook. A picture taken from god knows where but taken nonetheless.

His fingers glided on the image with reverence. A tiny sigh leaving his lips. He could tell it was from some time after she left Hope. With help from him, she wouldn’t have made it otherwise. He was the only one to know that she wasn’t going to be on the battlefield the next morning.

She fled, leaving whatever they had behind. Maybe forgetting all the nights spent tucked away, safe in each others arms.

It had been years—seven maybe? And he still missed her terribly. This was like a slap in the face.

“John? John, do you recognize her?”

He nodded wordlessly. To shocked to speak. “What does this have to do with Rook?”

“You had relations with Rook, didn’t you?”

Another nod. Though he wondered a moment too late what their ideas of ‘relations’ was.

“Yes, we thought so. After the DNA testing,” another sigh. Then a muttered “this is never easy.”

John was so damn close to losing his composure, he wanted to scream. Outside he heard the roar of an approaching engine and he relaxed just a bit. Jacob and Faith were here, he’d be fine. If he couldn’t handle what this woman was telling him then Jacob could.

Samantha leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Was Rook pregnant when she moved away from Hope County, John?”

“...no. Not that I was aware of.”

“She...she was. I’m sorry I have to be the one to let you know—“

“She had a kid? And you think it’s mine?”

“DNA doesn’t lie.”

His eyes narrowed. Was it legal to check his DNA like that? He was a property lawyer and this was a field he wasn’t too keen on. Though it sounded dangerously close to lawsuit territory.

As if she could sense his unease she spoke hastily, “your brother, Jacob? He was in the system. He was in the army and, uh, he had a few convictions. He’s the uncle, and you’re the father.”

“I have another brother.” Because it couldn’t be his. Rook wouldn’t do that to him, to their child. She was sweet and caring, she wouldn’t keep his child from him. Didn’t she know he’d give that kid the world? That if she didn’t want him in the picture then he could’ve, at the very least, given money and toys and anything they wanted?

“He’s in the system, too. Multiple arrests from when he was younger. We can check your DNA too, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s best to do that. But, if I may ask a question?” A nod spurred him on. “Why now? This child must be at least 6.”

“Seven, actually. And this is the bad news, John. We wouldn’t take a child away from their parent unless the home was unfit.”

John swallowed a lump past his throat. Rook’s home unfit? No. Impossible. This wasn’t the same woman who had put her life far above everyone else’s and threw herself in the line of fire time and time again.

She wouldn’t hurt a child.

“What happened?” He choked out.

“Alcohol, mostly. Drugs...well, pills. Prescription to be exact. She’s fine the last we checked. Put in a psych ward. We always look for next of kin, and when we heard the father wasn’t in the picture...well you are one difficult man to find, John Seed.”

He nodded, didn’t say that that’s what he intended, that if they had happened by chance to go further north they’d see the crazy, abnormal wolves and the myriad of guns with no licenses.

John took in what they said and he was quiet. Thinking how different that sounded to the Rook he knew. But then again, after all she went through...the atonement and the bliss that she was almost lost in due to Faith’s carelessness. Not to mention Jacob’s trials, they’d break anyones’ mind. He always wondered how someone would react to the normalcy of their life if they ever escaped Hope County. How could you leave a war zone and expect to feel safe?

“She’s alive though? Rook?”

“Yes! God, yes, I should’ve started with that. She’s fine. In rehab, but fine. She initially wanted us to give your child to her grandparents in Maine. But, well, the law is tricky and we didn't want to get caught up in it. Standard procedure and all that, to find the father.” She barreled on, didn’t let him get a word in edgewise, like she could sense his panic. “But if you don’t want your child that’s fine, too, no one holds that against you. She’ll be safe with Rook’s mother and father.”

Could he do that, in good conscious? Knowingly live the rest of his life, as old as he is, and not parent his child. He didn’t know the first thing about being a father, then again, most people didn’t.

“What’s the kid’s name?”

“Amora.”

“A girl?”

A wordless nod.

It was okay talking about it like this. Just a name and age. But it’d be real when that child was living in his house, needing his support and love. “Is she here?”

“Yes. Outside, waiting in the van. She has a few suitcases with her, in the case that she stays here. But if we need to get her to Maine she’d probably stay in foster care or an orphanage until we can arrange everything.”

“No.” It came out before John realized what he was saying. Falling from his with a quick almost shout that made him cringe and tinged his cheeks pink. With downcast eyes he murmured “she’s my kid. It’s my job to take care of her.”

Samantha didn’t fight his decision, for that he was thankful, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Christ, how was he supposed to explain this to his brothers? They’d think he was insane, beleiving a man like him--a monster like him--could raise a kid without fucking her up.

But he’d already said yes, and the irony of that wasn’t lost on him.

Samantha stood, hovering on the edges of his vision before settling a warm hand on his shoulder. “May we bring her in John?”

“Go ahead.” As soon as her and her colleague left John was up and pacing, eyes flicking up towards the doorway where his siblings entered. Faith with a crinkled brow and mussed hair, like she had been in a haste to get here. Joseph at the back with his head down. And Jacob leading them all, practically running to get to John. When they reached each other Jacob was quick to grab hold of John, pulling him in for a tight embrace that he wouldn’t be able to escape even if he wanted to.

“You okay, John?”

He laughed, nervous energy bubbling up to the surface. Tears threatening to poor down his cheeks. “God no. Did you...Did Joseph fill you in?”

“Yeah…” Jacob paused, relinquishing John with a sigh. “Sorry, ‘bout Rook. Fucking hell I didn’t even know you two were a thing.”

John threw up his hands, keeping his voice down for the sake of the people outside his home. “We weren’t! I don’t know what we were but we weren’t a unit. I just...I dunno, Jacob.”

“Did you love her?” Jacob asked softly.

His eyes found Joseph’s who gave him a half smile, encouraging.

“I think I did. Too late for that though.”

“We can get her here,” Jacob immediately protested, “we can pull a couple of strings, we’ve done it before.”

“She’s fucked up because of what happened here. I won’t bring her back to this. She needs to get better. Until then...I guess I’m a father.”

God help him but he was a dad now. He had a child, a living, breathing human who knew nothing about him. Or maybe she did. And that thought hit him hard, made him tremble inside. Rook could’ve filled her little head with so many things--all truths, he couldn’t deny that--she could’ve warned Amora about the pain and torture. That child could already hate him.

John deflated when he heard a soft knock on the door. He didn’t stand a chance in hell.


	70. Tender Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluff piece between Rook and John

“Can’t sleep either?”

Rook tensed, she hadn’t heard him sneak up on her. Something he seemed to be doing more often as they at least tried to settle into life together. Chipping at invisible walls. Meaning that he was the only one who could come up behind her and not get a broken nose in the process.

She leaned into the touch he offered a moment later, soft skin sliding on her waist and circling around her. Drawing her back to his chest. His scent came with the warmth his body gave off. The smell of citrus shampoo and sharp cologne. It was almost enough to put her out there and then.

Almost.

“Rook?”

Right, right, he asked her a question. “Mmm.”

“That a yes?” He peered out the window she had been focused on. Straining to see what she seemed to be caught on for all this time.

“I’m awake, aren’t I?”

John was quiet for a while. Long enough for her to think he would leave her leaning against his counter in the pitch black to go back to sleep. Finally though, he broke the silence. “Come back to bed. Let me lie with you. It might help.”

A swell of anger rose in her. Though that was just the fatigue, making her stand-offish in the worst of ways.

“No...no, that won’t work.”

“Warm milk?”

“John…”

He sighed. Squeezed her tighter and craned his head down to lay a kiss to her neck. It was soft, softer than she first realized a man like John Seed could ever be. His hands worked circles on her skin where he pushed her shirt up to reveal her stomach. His warm touch was accepted gladly, had her falling back into him with a whine.

“I’m trying.” He mumbled into her skin.

“I know. And you aren’t doing anything wrong. Haven’t been able to sleep for weeks. Not your fault.”

“No? I assume you didn’t have insomnia before coming to Hope County. I play some part in this.”

Rook couldn’t deny that. Nightmares were few and far between back home. She was more worried about student debt and car payments than getting her throat slit when her guard was down at night. He was right. So instead she didn’t say a thing. Just twisted her head to find his mouth.

The kiss they shared lacked teeth. He didn’t nip at her like he always had in the past, instead he pressed into her like he couldn’t get close enough. Making her heart beat just a tad faster.

When they broke away he pulled her with him despite her protests. She followed begrudgingly, let him know her disapproval with how she dragged her feet. She knew when she crawled out of his bed that there would be a chance of him waking, he was restless as it already was. And her rocking the boat wouldn’t help.

“C’mon, I have just the thing.”

“Johnny--”

“Hush. This helps me when I can’t sleep.”

She was close to asking what helps him, expecting him to lure her into bed and spread her legs. Something he hadn’t tried before, but his reputation lingered in the depths of her mind whenever they were alone. Her words died on her tongue when he passed right by his bedroom and kept going until they hit his bathroom.

The tiles were cold on her feet. Making her feel more awake then she would care to. Rook stood off to the side, hands folded in front of her with a bowed head. The shirt that she dared to borrow from his closet hung loosely on her, wracking a shiver through her body in the cold of his bathroom.

“What’re you doing, John?” Though he didn’t have to answer her question. Not when his next set of moves were to turn on the bath. Adding a healthy dose of soap that created a flurry of suds. It looked inviting, especially the steam that was already rising off the water.

“A bath, that’s all. If you don’t want me to stay—”

“Shut up.” She laughed lowly, tiredly, closing the gap between them to hug him tight to her. Her hands moved automatically, fingers fumbling to undress him. Pulling at buttons and sliding his shirt down his shoulders. He was quiet as she admired him in the fluorescents, breathing becoming shallow. He didn’t move to cover the skin she revealed, all his scars on display. His hands hung limply at his sides until she pulled at his belt buckle.

“This is for you.” He held her hands, stopping them, “undress yourself, dear. Get comfortable.”

With an airy sigh she did as she was told. Stripping off her shirt and panties. Squirming to get free. When she was bared to him, she moved her hands to cover her breasts, more self conscious that he was apparently.

“It’s okay, Rook. C’mere. This’ll help, I promise.”

And he wasn’t wrong. The warmth of the water lapped at her body. Bubbles covered her entirely, making her disappear. Though John’s eyes were still on her. Tracking her every movement. Naked himself, he murmured a soft, “may I join you?”  
Rook was already feeling sleepy with the heat from the water. So for now she could tell herself that’s what made her say yes.

He clambered in behind her. Uncaring in the way the water sloshed over the side and onto the bath mat over the tiled floor.

John didn’t waste any time grabbing at her. Wrapping his limbs around like he was scared she’d run. His arms went under her breasts, legs tangled with hers under the water. When he leaned back he brought her with him. Once again back to chest. Until all her senses were filled with him.

“There we go,” he whispered soothingly, “isn’t that better?”

She hummed, too comfortable to even considering speaking.

“Good. Sleep, dear. Just relax.”

“M’gonna drown if I fall asleep.”

“No. No, not at all. I’ve got you.”

She couldn’t help herself. “Always?”

He kissed her. The crown of her head then wherever he could reach on her neck. It was an answer in of itself. “Always.”

She couldn’t be sure how long they stayed like that. Just that John didn’t let the water go cold. Intent on making sure she was soft and sleepy if he ever got her back to bed.

Which he must have. Somewhere in between curling up with him in the water and noticing his silky sheets below, he moved her.

Instinctively she reached out her hand, searching for him. She found him almost immediately, as close as he was, he wasn’t curled up against her like she expected. And that realization brought along a pang of disappointment.

He caught her staring, even in the dark. “You were almost asleep. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Well…” Rook hummed, scooting closer, made easier by the fact that she was still naked. “Doesn’t matter now. Please, just—come here.”

John didn’t waste anytime snuggling up to her. Throwing an arm around her midsection and pulling her in until their noses bumped. It was crazy intimate. Lying face to face the way they were.

It was something she could get used to.

Rook nuzzled into him, stealing his heat. “Why are you awake, John?”

“‘Cause.”

She frowned, bringing a hand up from where it was stuck between them to cup his face. “Why?” She knew why, she was almost positive. She just wanted to hear him say it.

“I can’t sleep without you.”

There it was. Not exactly an omission of love. But for now, with whatever they had now, it was enough.


	71. Parenthood pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rook had a one night stand years ago, this resulted in a kid that John doesn't know about, but is soon gonna

“Who’s that?”

Rook paused, this was her idea, to share these little bits of her life that she had kept under lock and key from the rest of the world. She hadn’t told a soul since she fled Hope County, the memories too painful. She knew she could stop at any time, retract these pictures and send her child off to bed. But living with these kind of secrets, no one to share her inner turmoil with, it was wearing on her. 

“Sharky.” There was a tinge of pride in her voice, there were so many people in Hope that never cared for her, not really, not like him. He was different. He took the time to find out her name and ask what her hopes and dreams were once the chaos died down. There was never a dull moment with him. A smile tugged Rook’s lips up as she barreled on. “My best and most loyal friend. We were ride or die.” 

Elise nodded. Eyes flickering around the photo with rapt attention. Taking it all in because this was so new. Rook had shared snippets of her life like most parents did. Just enough for school projects and for Elise to have some kind of culture. Rook had told her of her childhood, her parents and the lack of siblings, where she grew up and all the stupid things she’d done as a teenager that she knew Elise would do as well. Her kid took notice in the gap in her timeline. Just as smart as her father. 

Rook didn’t exactly lie when asked about that strange omission of years left out. She told Elise that she’d been a soldier in a war unrecognized by no one outside of Hope County, Montana. She had compared it to the Rwandan war, or the scuffle between Japan and China and the atrocities of Nanking. The kind of buried war that countries hid and few knew of. A brutal, bloody thing that no one wanted to acknowledge because of the stain it had on history. 

But she couldn’t take it anymore. Rook had to tell her more, she just had to. It wouldn’t be right otherwise. Guilt was already clawing at her. She guessed that's what made her so damn useful in Hope County. While there were already dozens resisting the Seeds long before she rolled in, she was just that little bit different. She cared--she would risk her own life before she would let someone else go down. And if they did, if she failed one of the hundreds of missions she was sent on, she’d repay her debt ten fold. Guilt had always rested heavy in her heart. Made her feel sick and restless. It was a wonder she had been able to contain herself for so long.

“What happened to him?”

“Nothing.” She answered too quick, hands clenching in a tell of nerves. 

“Then why isn’t he here? Or in touch at least.” 

“There was a  _ war,  _ Elise.” Rook tried to bite back her temper, cringing when it fell short. “Besides, he had family there. I don’t blame him for not being here.” She bit her lip, eyes skipping along the picture. He was alive last time she checked. Though it's not like he'd show up in any obituaries, not if the Seeds could help it. “He did more than enough, always tried to keep me out of trouble.”

She placed the picture down on the coffee table, the memory hurting too much to think further into it. Her fingers tightened on the next picture. One of her goddaughter, a younger Rook cradling her tight and laying a kiss on the crown of her head. Kim barely in frame in the background, taking a blessed, rare break.

Rook didn’t know the half of parenting then. Could hardly imagine having a child and raising them into someone she not only loved, but who she liked. 

Elise laughed, tracing the picture with a painted nail. “That’s you! Oh, you’re so young.” Then, softer, as she huddled in closer, “What happened to you…” It was meant to be teasing. Rook knew that, her daughter had done it more times then she could count. Joking about how old Rook was at 35, but this one hit harder. Brought on a flood of emotions.

What  _ had _ happened to her? That strong willed woman who was raising hell and dealing with one of the four Seeds on a weekly basis. 

She put that photo down without explaining it. Had already mentioned she had a goddaughter--a less painful thing to think back on. Elise could piece it together.

She moved onto a bundle of photographs that she held tight to her chest, previously laying face down on her lap. “These ones are the ones I know you’re most interested in. Probably why you sat through all the rest.” 

Elise blinked back at her, gnawing on her lip in a way that reminded her of John.

Fucking hell.

Rook handed off the picture to Elise. She didn’t have to look at it, she’d already spent countless nights staring at those photos. Putting them face up on the empty side of her bed. Just imagining what it’d be like to go back 15 years to when her and John took all the anger they had for each other and turned into one good night of fun. 

The first one she looked at was just of John. A rare shot taken when he was unaware, relaxing in his office, brows drawn low in concentration. Pen clutched between white knuckles with his lip pulled taut by sharp teeth. Brown hair obscuring his eyes and vest hanging open. 

“Is that…?”

“Your dad. Yeah.”

“What’s his name?”

“John.”

“John what? You said you didn’t keep his last name.”

“Seed.” Her tone was short and choppy, trying to hide the tears she felt bubbling behind her eyes. 

“Did he...Does he have any siblings?” Elise’s voice was tight as she examined the picture, committing it to memory. “Do I have uncles? Aunts?”

Rook’s lips twisted. Too aware of how desperately her child wanted a family. All she had was Rook. Grandparents dead and no siblings to speak of. Just cousins that were far too old to garner any interest but too young to coddle Elise like a parent would.

“Yeah. Three brothers...and a sister. Unrelated.”

Elise didn’t question that last bit. Nodded, flustered maybe. Breathing in deep. “Why’d you wait ‘till now. I’m practically grown.” 

If Rook didn’t know her child any better she’d laugh at that statement. ‘Practically grown.’ She was 15, hardly an adult. But Rook knew what she meant. Her father had missed crucial years. Time to know what she was like and what she used to be. 

“What did you want me to do? Tell you when your were five? All you knew was me and you. I didn’t need to destroy that, go make you think there was something wrong with not having a father. I did the best I could.” Room paused, contemplating. “And if I told you too young you'd take my own opinions and pass them on for yours. I’m too biased.”    
  


“Because he’s a bad man?” 

Room blinked at her. Not understanding where she got that from.

“No need to not tell me about him unless he was an asshole.”

Rook cringed, cursing herself for not telling her John’s role in his very own war. That she hit the nail on the head. That he was hated and feared. 

“Most people have two side of themselves, honey. And to tell you the truth, his bad side got real bad. I saw it myself. Whether directed at me or another person, it was horrible. When he was good, god, he was great. An amazing saint. But I weighed the pros and cons and skipped town.”

“With me?”

“No. No, you weren’t born yet.”

Elise sucked in a breath, putting the picture down with care. “And he didn’t object. Knowing you were pregnant with his child?” Then, with tears now in her eyes for Rook to see clearly. “Or did he not know? Mom, does he even know I exist?” 

“N-no. Far as I’m concerned. If he knew about you he’d be here in a heartbeat, I’m sure.”

“Why?”

  
Rook didn’t know what she was asking. Why had she lied? Why didn’t she tell John? Why the fuck had she stolen her family from her? 

“It was one night.”

“Oh, so it was a mistake.”

“Elise—”

“Leave me be. Just...I’m going to bed.”

Rook let the tears come long after Elise’s bedtime. She held back her cries for as long as she could manage, which wasn’t very long at all. Years spent mourning what could have been and yet here she was, sobbing like a baby. Wishing she could give her child a different life. 

Would different be better? 

Rook silenced her cries as best she could when she caught sight of the time. She had to work in the morning. Cursing herself she fell asleep wondering if different would be better. 

Elise was gone when she woke. Hadn’t let her kiss her goodbye or pack her lunch like she had been doing since she was in kindergarten. It tore at Rook. Made tears form once again as she scrambled to get dressed for work. No longer a deputy—she couldn’t go back to that line of work. She had tried for a week but realized that everything reminded her of Eden's Gate. Even now, in her own home, she couldn’t stop thinking about them 15 years down the line. 

Her bland office job kept the money coming in, kept a roof over their heads. But her talk with Elise ruined her, made her wonder something she hadn’t in a long while. What kind of spoiled life would their daughter have if she shared John’s riches? If she was given everything she ever stared too long at? 

What could Rook have? 

She shook away the thought. All the material items in the world wouldn’t be worth the fear she’d feel with John around their baby. She doubted he even wanted to share the life she had. 

It wouldn’t do any good to worry about it. But miles away, her daughter  _ had  _ to worry. She couldn’t stop herself.

Elise’s fingers danced across the keyboard. Eyes focused intently on the screen, on the words she was slamming out to make appear in the search bar. 

She did another quick survey of the library, saw her teacher across the room and went back to typing. Her class was here to research colleges, not do whatever the hell she was getting up to. Which she was sure would raise a few eyebrows. Elise pressed down on the enter button a tad too hard, making the person across from her glance up. She chanced an apologetic smile before her eyes flitted down. Seeing what she typed out and wishing she had asked mom more before she ran off to bed. 

_ John Seed  _

All she had was a name. One that wasn’t doing much. John was about as generic a name as you could get. And there were more people with the last name Seed then she cared for. 

She had asked thousands of times about her family. And now she racked her brain to remember anything else about him. A job would be nice. She knew he was successful, her mom harped on that. Spoke of him like he was a genius. 

A politician or businessman, her mom said he was charismatic.  _ A lawyer.  _

Elise couldn’t stifle her gasp. Right, that’s right. A lawyer. It had been a while since she mentioned it but Elise was sure that was correct. Her fingers went back to jamming on the keyboard as she leaned forward in her seat. She added lawyer to the end of her search result and huffed at what she found. Nothing. Nada. Not a damn thing. She added something else. A place. Her mom didn’t shy away from where that war happened. 

_ John Seed lawyer Montana.  _

Nothing. She deflated. Eyes coming to rest on the carpeted floor. 

When she got home she stopped short of the stairs. “Mom,” she said softly, hands curling into fists when her mother glanced away from where she was washing dishes to shoot her a charming smile. Like Elise wasn’t having problems beyond belief. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“Do you have his number?”

Mom’s face twisted. Uncomfortable, unsure even. Though she didn’t have to ask what her daughter meant by that. “Yeah. I do.” 

That’s all she needed to hear. With a final nod she turned on her heel and headed up the stairs. As eager as she was, she’s always had the patience of a saint. She’d gladly wait until midnight to do what needed to be done. 

Her mom was asleep earlier than usual. As soon as dinner was done she was up and off to bed. Dozing less than half an hour later. 

Elise could hardly believe her luck.

The terrible shame she felt at stealing her mom’s phone in the dead of night was masked by the sudden surge of excitement. 

Back in her room, it took almost an hour to psych herself up. To tell herself that this was the right thing to do. That her mom wouldn’t be mad, not for something so inconsequential that would probably result in nothing. And calling her dad—the one who should be here—what harm could that do?

The phone rang once. Twice. Three...four...five. Elise was briefly left wondering what the time difference was between Montana and Washington. If it was too late for him to even be awake. 

“Yes?”

She almost dropped the phone at the sound of his voice.  _ Her father's voice.  _ She tried to control her breathing, to think of anything that would stop him from hanging up and leaving her again. 

“Hello? Rook? Is that—is that really you, dear?”

_ Dear.  _ The term of endearment wasn’t meant for her. Deep down she knew that, but it had some small part of her brain light up with joy. 

“Hi,” she finally said. Spoken softly, too aware that her mom’s room was right next to her own. That these walls were thin. “You—“ she hesitated, couldn’t find the right words. Hell, would he even believe her?

“Have you grown shy all these years apart, deputy?” 

Elise sucked in a breath. Deputy? She thought mom was a soldier. 

“No. No, it’s not...Rook.” With a sudden ounce of bravado she spoke quicker. “My name’s Elise.” She couldn’t stop the smile that adorned her face. 

“Right...okay, are you a friend of Rook’s?” There was a sound in the background. The scuffling of a pen scratching paper. “Come to deliver a message perhaps? Or maybe you could tell me this: is she finally coming home? Ready to be that hero she was so intent on becoming?”

Elise’s mind was spinning. Ready to ask questions. To wake her mother up right this instant and demand to know everything. But she guessed there was no need when there was a man speaking in her ear who knew just what she wanted to know.

“No—no I’m not.. _ some friend _ .” A pause.  _ Fuck it. Here we go. _ “I’m her daughter.”

The silence was maddening. It went on long enough for her to think he had hung up. But then he spoke. “I was unaware she had any children.”

“It’s just me.”

“Okay.” He breathed out slow and loud. “Darling, I don’t mean to be crass. But why are you calling me?”

_ Just do it. Do it. What do you have to lose?  _ “Because I’m your kid. You’re—you’re my dad.”

He really did hang up then. The click on the line followed by a gentle hum told her that. She still murmured into the phone, spoke past those initial flow of tears into nothingness. Pretending just for a moment that her dad was still there. Hearing about all the years he missed, both the good times and the times where they almost didn't make it through the week.

When she fell asleep it was with mom’s phone tucked tight against her ear.

Waking was a struggle. Her eyes were sore and swollen from crying. Her throat was scratchy like she had a cold. But none of that could compare to the unease she felt deep in her chest. If she had felt unwanted before, this surely didn’t help. 

She tried to keep those emotions hidden. Growing up with only her mom taught her that much—that as much as she loved her, she had her own problems—Elise would feel too much like a burden. Besides, there was nothing either of them could do. 

Which is why Elise didn’t speak a word of it to her mom. Elise placed her phone back where she found it and ran to catch the bus. Unwilling to stick around. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to look her mom in the eyes. 

This time around she didn’t bother with research. She kept her mind ignorant to her dad and his life. Deep down she knew she couldn’t bear seeing how successful he was. She didn’t want to see if he had a large home and acres of land with dozens of cars and boats at his disposal. She didn’t need that when her and her mom were just barely getting by at times. 

Things smoothed over a lot quicker than Elise thought they would. School was a panic, between midterms and SATs...she was buried in homework and essays and the drama that came along with high school. Within a week she had pushed her dad out of her mind. She didn’t ask her mom about her life in Hope County any longer, even if her curiously still peaked here and there. Wondering what the hell her dad had been on about. 

Life went on.

Until it came to a dead stop.

Elise couldn’t remember the exact day. Or how many weeks had passed since she had called her father, when everything went wrong, but she wished she had told her mom. That she had fessed up and took the verbal lashing. But she was paying for it dearly. Her and Rook both.

It was by some stroke of luck that she had woken up. Elise was unsure  _ what  _ woke her. Some noise or deep intuition maybe. Or perhaps it was because she took a nap when she got home from school and she was well rested as it was. But that didn’t seem right. 

Elise scanned her room, listening closely for harsh winds beyond her window or the creaking of the house. When nothing came she closed her eyes again, she didn’t know the time but it was still dark as all hell. She had a few more hours before school. 

But then she heard it. 

Footsteps. The opening and closing of their front door—she knew that sound by heart—it was creaky from age and always too loud. She had never been more thankful for that door until now. 

She sat up with wide eyes. Racking her brain. Trying to remember if she had locked the door. If mom had done the same when she came home. 

Elise listened intently. For footsteps coming up the stairs, for her mom’s door to open and shut once again as she got back to bed. Because it had to be her. She could’ve went out for the cool night air, because the nightmares she tried so desperately to keep hidden from Elise had made it difficult to fall asleep. 

Nothing more came. No more sounds. And for a second Elise could relax. She didn’t ease back down into bed, and that was her next mistake. The final nail in the coffin. Something she’d think about for too damn long, wondering about all the what if’s. 

She was quiet, painfully so, when she crept out of bed and into the hallway. The darkness kept her hidden, she practically melted into the shadows. Suddenly she felt silly for hiding, for creeping around her own home like she was an intruder. 

“Mom?” Her voice was just a whisper. Something in her gut was clenched tight from worry. Scared out of her wits in a way she couldn’t explain. 

Hadn’t her biology teacher said that human instincts were just as good as animals? Only that we don’t listen to ours. She sunk back into that familiarity of school and teachers. Of a world she’d be sucked back into in a few hours. She focused on it to keep herself grounded. 

The stairs were unmercifully loud. Tiny creaks were amplified in the silence of the night time. She rounded the bend in the stairs and peeked around the corner. Head edging out just so. Listening before she descended the rest of the way.

Already she could picture the laugh she’d have with her mom. The way she’d recount her fear when really there was nothing to be scared of. She’d go to school the next day and tell her friends with a smile on her face how she thought that someone had broken in.

Elise smiles at the thought. A smile that died not even a second later. When her eyes fell on the front door and saw a shadow that was so not her mom. 

It was large. Too damn big to be her mom’s lithe frame. With broad shoulders and a slimmed waist. Hair that was short and styled in a way she wouldn’t expect from someone invading her safe space. 

She opened her mouth to scream. To yell out and alert her mom, her neighbors, any one in the near vicinity who would sound the alarm. He was faster. Quick on his feet and closing the distance between them in five easy steps. Her focus shifted from screaming and directed towards running in the opposite direction.

The back door. That was an option. It wasn’t far—their home was tiny. It was an option, dammit. Until it wasn’t. Until she ran right into someone. For a blessed second she thought it was her mom. And she sank into their weight. But when too large arms wrapped around her middle she realized her mistake. 

They were strong. And huge. So fucking huge. She felt panic rise in her. Fear and dread taking over. 

“Jacob, careful!”

“She’s fine, John.”

“She’s having a panic attack.”

Was she? Was that why she felt like the world was crashing down on her? Like at any moment she would implode and burst into a thousand pieces? 

Slowly the pressure that wrapped around her eased the tiniest bit. The arms that trapped her were gone, replaced with soft hands on her shoulders. The face in front of hers, inches from her, came into focus after what seemed like years. He was kneeling, so unguarded that it took her by surprise. 

She took in every minute detail of this strange man. Recorded the names they had passed around, stored them away for later when she was safely out of this situation and in a police station making an official report. 

He had tiny freckles dotting his face. On his cheeks and forehead, like constellations. His beard was thick, but not unkempt. A dark brown so unlike her own lighter, almost red hair. But what struck her most was his eyes. They stole her breath away in the worst kind of way. How could she not recognize those eyes? She had seen them for the past sixteen years, every single time she passed by a mirror. 

Her breath caught. That tide of panic threatening to pull her under again. 

“Shhh, dear, it’s alright. No need to be scared.” Her eyes slammed shut. Focusing instead on his scent. Unnatural, covered by cologne. A crucial detail though, if she’s to get out of this alive. The thought made her stomach do back flips. 

“Breathe.” The stranger murmured. His hand working tiny circles on her shoulder in an act that was probably meant to be comforting. “Look at me.” His fingers hooked under her chin, putting the base amount of pressure that had her eyes flying open. 

“There we are.” He was smiling at her. Looking on in awe. “You know, I didn’t believe you when you called. I thought it was some sort of sick joke. Could you blame me? I hadn’t heard from Rook in  _ sixteen _ years.” He sighed deeply, pulling away to lean back on his heels and rub at his brow. She noted the myriad of tattoos there, something she was surprised she missed considering how many of them he had. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” He gave her a cynical smile. “But then again you only have your mother to blame for that.”

“Jonn. Don’t belittle her.”

“I’m not, Joseph.”

Her gaze moved away from the stranger—John—her dad, and up until she landed on a man she hadn’t noticed before now at her door. Blocking the exit while the man to her back did the same. 

No way out.

“You are. That’s her mother you’re speaking about. The woman who granted you the gift of a child. Show some respect.”

John huffed, shooting her a smile and a wink like she had seen this kind of bickering for years. Like she had known them all her life. 

John stood, spreading his arms wide with a laugh. Turning towards the man he called Joseph. “I have the rest of her life to gain her trust, Joe. As well as Rook’s.” He clapped his hands together and spun on his heel to face her once again. “Don’t worry, dear. Everything is working out just as He intended. I’ll keep you safe, believe me. You’ll want for nothing ever again.” And on and on like that. Speaking about things she didn’t know anything about. Words coming out of his mouth that were foreign. She tucked those away too. 

The collapse and Eden's Gate. Her mom never said things like that before...god she was going to throw up. 

“You’ve made her go pale, Jonn.”

A hand clapped down on her shoulder, the man behind her making her shake under his grasp. “She’s fine. Just overwhelmed. I’d be too, the way John’s talking.”

“I just want her to know that everything is okay. Because I doubt her mother has told her a thing about me. Isn’t that right, dear?”

She rocked on her heels. Head tipped down, chin bumping into her chest. She lifted her shoulder in a lazy shrug. Hands tangled in front of her. 

Elise couldn’t stop the tears that flowed. Or the sobs that racked her body. She was so far gone that she didn’t fight the way John swept her up in his arms. Crouched on the ground with her in his lap like she was a child again. She cried and whined, fists hitting his chest out of sheer frustration. Anger that her life had turned upside down in a single night. 

“Hush, my dear. Dry your tears. For your life is about to get so much better. We’re going to live as a family now. Your mother and me, with you by our side. It’s a glorious thing: family. I’m going to make you proud that I’m your father.”

His words did nothing to soothe her. But she knew that there was no getting out of this. She was stuck. She could only hope that he wasn’t as bad a man as her mom said he was. 


	72. Confession Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John caught Rook and takes her for confessions, and it comes up that she is still a virgin. The Seed brothers get into an argument with each other over who gets to have her first time

“Well, go on. This is your confession after all. You have the floor, deputy.”

John looked so calm right now. Sitting across from her like they were old friends. Leaning forward with forearms on his knees to peer at her face. Searching for any lies she dare try to slip past him. 

“I’ve never—“ she cleared her throat, trying again when her tongue refused to cooperate. Feeling too big in her mouth from the lingering bliss. “I’ve never done this before. Not much of a religious type.”

“Of course, of course.” He nodded like he expected this. He’s probably heard it a dozen times before. He didn’t cherry pick the people he tied up, she bet he had his fair share of non-believers. “Just talk to me. I’m not here to judge you.”

John was handsome enough. Charismatic as all hell, too. In a different world she’d have no problem holding a conversation. Fear kept her mouth dry and lips locked tight though. The feeling of rope cutting into her skin made her frazzled. Mind drawing a blank.

“Come on, deputy, I’m not going to remain patient forever. I’m a busy man.”

Rook nodded fast. A huff of air leaving her lungs in a rush. “Okay. Yeah, sorry.” She winced at her words. She  _ hated  _ apologizing when she hadn’t a thing to be sorry for. But self preservation and all that. “Where do I start? Uh…” her eyes darted to the open-V of his button up. Sloth written in small, lopsided letters. 

_ Perfect. _

“I—“  _ breathe Rook.  _ “What’s sloth?”

He brightened at her question. Straightening his posture and tugging at the lapels of his vest. 

“It’s one of the more...difficult...sins to explain. There are many ways to define sloth. It’s can be where a person chooses not to help a person in need..even when they can.” He reached out, a hand curving over her knee. It stole her breath away, knowing what was capable of. He continued on like he was unaware of her inner turmoil. “It’s also when a person ignores their duties. Slacks off, I suppose.”

There was a pause, one that he graciously gave her time to think. 

“So? What’s the verdict, deputy?”

“I’ve helped a lot of people these past months. Ever since I got to hope county it seems all I do is help. I never get a damn break. So no, my sin isn’t sloth.”

“Easy there. No need to get angry, I’m not accusing you of anything. I know you work hard, Rook.” He smiled sickly sweet at her. A Cheshire Cat grin that calmed her almost instantly. Some part of her mind was so fucking happy that someone finally understood. 

“Keep going.” He murmured, “we’ll find it eventually.” 

Gluttony was out by John’s standards. As was greed. He said they often went hand in hand. The entire time he sat there patiently, despite his earlier threat. As long as she was giving answers, he was happy. She was cooperating and John liked that. It made his job easy. Something she doubted he experienced often. She was a welcome change, he told her. 

She thought that envy was a contender. Steeled herself for when he agreed and would tattoo those letters into her skin.

He frowned though. Suddenly unhappy as she spoke. “Just..growing up I wanted more. I wasn’t spoiled. The opposite actually. Which is why I was so jealous of my friend’s lives. They had it all. The large houses and parents who loved them. They had perfect grades and the best clothes.”

“Did you act on your envy?” 

Now it was her turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

John leaned back in his chair. Squirming as he placed his hand against his spine and stretched. Stiff probably. They’d been at this for at least an hour. “Did you cut off all ties with them? Fight them? Maybe told these people who had so much more that you hated them?”

“No. I—they were my friends, at the end of the day we all came together. They never even knew I envied them. I didn’t tell a soul.”

He rolled his neck around. A sigh escaping his lips. Through his beard she saw the hint of a smile, a wry thing shared between old pals. “There’s a fine line where a bad habit becomes a sin. Everyone is guilty of greed and gluttony and envy. What’s hard is understanding when you’ve taken it too far.”

“You’re saying my sin isn’t envy?” 

He gave her another grin. “Afraid not, my dear. It’s something though, no one is free from sin. How about pride?” 

“Explain it to me.” Because John talking about his passion was a John she was coming to like. It meant he was too busy to think that she was buying time.

“Think of pride like a gateway to other sins. When you think you’re better than those of everyone else...you think you should have it all, you get angry. It’s a dangerous thing. It comes in many forms. Pride, vanity, especially hubris. You know the difference between the three, don’t you?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Good.” He blinked at her expectantly. Hungry for something. She swallowed, mind snapping back into place. 

“Right. Okay. I guess yeah, pride works.”

“No,” he snarled, standing suddenly. Quick enough to knock his chair to the floor with a loud clatter. “It can’t just ‘work.’ It needs to be right.  _ We  _ need to get this right. We can’t just settle for something. If it isn’t right, then tell me so I can search  _ harder _ !”

Tell him. The idea crossed her mind once or twice through all this. She thought that would throw him into a fit of rage. You couldn’t tell a man like John that he was wrong, even if the subject was focused solely on you. John’s word was law. 

Rook stuck to her word, even after his outburst. Stared him straight in the eyes and tried to scrounge around inside her head to come up with a memory that would prove to him that her sin was pride. Just so they could finally end this thing. 

That’s all she wanted, to go lie down in whatever cell John would toss her in and sleep. 

He saw right through her rambling excuses. That’s why he was the Baptist. As good as talking as he was at catching liars. 

The punch came out of nowhere. Right against her cheek, smashing into her jaw and making the bones crack. The force of it would’ve knocked her back if he hadn’t caught her chair between deft fingers. “Don’t lie to me, deputy.” He was on bended knee in front of her when he righted her, holding her shoulders tight. Squeezing until she felt like he was going to break bone. “You must confess. And that means telling the truth.” 

He hit her again. Not quite as hard, but that’s only because he aimed for her throat. And she could only imagine the ramifications if he killed her. For now he just let her choke and cough. Watching her struggle to get her air back. 

It took a few moments for Rook to start again. To bury her feelings of anger and hatred for this man so casually righting his chair in front of her. She couldn’t afford to show her anger, not when she was helpless. Maybe she was lying to herself but she’d like to think that’s why she was being so submissive. Going along with his games instead of giving it her all to escape. She wouldn’t be of use to anyone if she was dead.

“Let’s try again.” He finally said, long after he sat down and had taped up his bruised knuckles. “We had...what? Two more to go?”

Rook grunted. Hanging her head to hide her growing resentment; and the mark forming on her face from how hard he hit her. 

“Lust and wrath.” He clicked his tongue, “if only my brothers were here. They’d have a lot to say about this.” At her curious stare he shrugged dismissively. “They both have their opinions on you.”

He opened his mouth to speak, leaning forward again, but he was cut off by the squeal of his radio. A flicker of annoyance flashed over his face. There was almost an apologetic air about him as he stood, moving far away until she couldn’t hear him anymore. 

The conversation didn’t last too long. Barely thirty seconds. But when he turned around with a clap of his hands, her blood went cold. 

“It seems God was listening closely to us, deputy. It just so happens that my family has caught wind of your capture. They’re here. On their way to see you, actually.”

“Is this something that normally happens? Or am I a special case?” Rook tried to sound detached. Stripping herself of that snarky attitude that came with her title. It had no place here. 

“Joseph visits on occasion.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to mutter “though sometimes I think that’s just to check on me.” He tipped his head towards the door, listening for footsteps. “As for Jacob...I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing. Maybe he’s just eager to meet you.”

Now  _ that _ startled a laugh out of her. She bit it back as quickly as it came along. Scanning his face for a reaction. He was chuckling though, trying to hide it behind his hand. But there was mirth dancing in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess that’s a stupid idea. No, he’s probably just mad. Wondering how a rookie has been such a problem.” 

The wait was horrible. She expected John to jump back into his work. To go at her again, to drill her for that confession. He was just waiting though. He wanted his brothers to see the show. To show them that he was powerful and that he knew what he was doing. That if anyone had control over Holland Valley, it was him. 

The bastard knew she was antsy. He even had the grace to untie her feet, just so she could bounce her leg sporadically to shake out her nerves. 

Joseph didn’t bother knocking on the steel door to John’s confession room. He strolled in through the door directly behind her. And if not for John’s softened features, she wouldn’t have known that it was his brothers who interrupted them. 

John practically skipped forward. Not hesitating to embrace Joseph, then Jacob. And she didn’t miss how Jacob ruffled John’s hair, a brotherly show of affection that made her feel like an intruder. 

Joseph seemed at home here, taking up position right by John’s workbench. Standing with arms folded in front of him. If she didn’t believe John before, this was evidence enough that Joseph watched these spectacles often.

Jacob didn’t waste any time turning his attention on her. “So this is her, huh?” he mused, drawing a line with his finger over the expanse of her back. Stopping when he brushed along her cheek, at the bruise that started to form there. “You put her in her place, I see. Need any help?”

“Let him work, Jacob. He told me he’s almost done. This shouldn’t take a minute.” 

Rook was shaking by the time John sat back down and smiled gratefully at her. “Where were we?”

She made a choice then. Decided between lust and wrath. She knew that she wasn’t a terrible person, hardly a sinner. But she wasn’t leaving here until she had John’s writing carved into her skin. He’d peg her for wrath, she knew it. And the thought of that, the idea of a painful tattoo against her sternum...she was trembling with the thought.

So she bought herself some time. Grimaced at him for show and murmured a soft “lust.” 

He nodded enthusiastically, urging her to keep going. That was the problem with this plan. Her sin wasn’t lust, far from it. She hadn’t even had sex. This wouldn’t last forever.

“I don’t...I—“

“I know this can be intimidating with an audience. Most people find it hard to talk about lust to openly even if it’s just them and I. Like I said, I won’t judge you. Just tell me.”

Her cheeks warmed. She could tell him of her obscene thoughts. That she might not of had sex but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. Because there was a chance he wouldn’t believe her if she told him the truth.

“How many people have you slept with?” John prodded, stealing a glance at his brothers before refocusing one her. 

“Uh—“  _ Christ here we go,  _ “none.”

The room seemed to go quiet. Whatever side conversation Joseph and Jacob were having ceased. 

“You…” John’s cheeks warmed slightly. “You’ve never had sex?” 

Her own blush was much brighter. So red she could feel the heat radiating off her skin. There was no where she could look that would get her away from this. She was a goddamn idiot, this  _ might  _ stall the inevitable—for about five minutes. She’d get her tattoo either way. Just with the added benefit of the Seed brothers knowing she was a virgin. 

“Hm.” John leaned back, looking over his shoulder with the hint of a smile. “Joe? You know what this means?” 

“Yes. Yes, John, of course. We had our speculations…” he stepped forward, a hand coming to rest on John’s shoulder. “Thank you, brother.” 

Rook wanted to shout. To drop her calm, cool act and yell. To ask what the fuck was going on when it so obviously concerned her. 

Joseph just smiled at her. Approached real slow until he stood in front of her and could cup her cheeks affectionately. “Don’t worry, Rook. You’ll understand soon. Just give us a moment.”

A moment was all Rook needed. Her legs were untied still, an oversight a man like John wouldn’t have made if she hadn’t told them she was a virgin. Just another thing to play into their prophecy.

Fuck it. Whatever works.

They were oblivious. Arguing actually. Which masked the sound of her wheeling away. Using her legs to push herself around. Right over to the stairs. Which would be loud, and painful, and it might not knock her free at all. But she had to try. Because she caught snippets of their conversation and she didn’t like what she heard. She didn’t like the idea of “being taken” by any of them. 

With a deep breath she tipped her chair over the edge of the stairs. 

For a second it felt like she was flying. Then her head hit metal and her ropes came free from the force of her trying to grab onto something. 

And she was gone. Rushing around a corner and diving into the vent system. Dodging stray bullets and the Peggies who were intent on pleasing their heralds. 

She was just as intent to  _ not  _ pleasing them. Even when she was long since gone from John’s bunker, the thought of bedding down with any of them, of them being her first...it made her squirm. 

Rook would lay low, and just maybe they’d lose their obsession with her real fucking quick.


	73. Ego pt 2 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob teaching John how to fuck properly with a blissed out dep as practice

John isn’t fully hard, he’s not too sure that's even possible right now. Not when his brother is completely naked, only feet away from where he’s sat. He’s somewhere in between pleasure though, his cock throbbing because Rook is gorgeous beneath Jacob. It makes him think, not for the first time, that she’d make a good cam girl if deputy didn’t work out.

He’d tell her so if she wasn’t blissed up to her tits right about now. 

“You could always do this yourself, y’know?” Jacob drawls, his thrusts becoming a steady, monotonous thing. 

John tips his head, makes a considering sound in the back of his throat. Jacob is right of course. If John really wanted he could have gotten his hands on some bliss himself. It was his envy that made him approach his brother with this request about a week ago. Saying how “ _ highly Rook talks about you, Jake.” _

_ “Yeah? Is that gonna be a problem now?” _

_ “No, no, not at all. If someone can fulfill her needs...well, by all means. But she’s not the easiest to please.” _

_ “You’re just not doing it right.” _

And now they're here. With Jacob fucking Rook mercilessly, maybe the roughest he has ever dared to go. Which makes sense, she can’t feel a thing right now. But apparently, because he trusts Jacob’s word, she likes it exactly the way she is. Ass up in the air and head forced down into the pillows.

John was too light for her, he was too vanilla. If he'd known what she wanted then and there he would have pulled out all the stops. Reached under his bed to his box of toys and showed her a good time. Not like this isn't a treat, if he focuses real hard he can forget about  _ who _ is fucking her and just enjoy it. 

Which is made difficult when Jacob won’t shut up.

Whatever. John cleared his schedule for this, he’s spending an entire afternoon watching Jacob pull out almost to the tip just to jam back inside her cunt. He intends to make the most of this.

John finally drops his hand to his covered erection. Rubbing slowly, like he has all the time in the world. He wants to tip his head back, grind his hips up against his palm, but that would mean missing a moment of this. And he’s meant to take notes, to know how to fuck her when it’s his turn. To make deciding between him and Jacob a hard sort of thing next time around.

Jacob slams into her, a large hand planting itself on her waist and grabbing ahold of what little fat she has there. Making her rock back onto his cock with a growl rising up from Jacob’s throat. 

John’s eyes do close now, to listen to her soft mewls and imagine it was him fucking her. On a whim he undoes his belt buckle, ignoring Jacob’s smarmy laugh when he sees John pulling himself out. 

He isn’t self conscious by any means, he couldn’t be to do something like this. It still feels weird though, with Jacob casting glances his way every so often. Maybe to see if John’s actually watching to learn or just getting off. Right now it’s the latter as he wraps a hesitant hand around his dick. Starting at the base to pull up in abrupt tugs. Coaxing himself to get harder. His thumb brushes along the tip, smearing in a glob of pre-come so when he strokes back down nothing has the chance to chafe. 

“Yes,” he murmurs, the muscles in his abdomen tightening on their own accord. He moves to cup his balls, rolling them around before he goes back to stroking his cock. “Jacob—fuck, she’s pretty like that.” 

“Yeah? You could—you don’t gotta—you could join though. Put her mouth to use. Stuff her full, give her a little surprise when she comes to.”

The thought makes John moan. Another spurt of pre-come leaking out steadily over his hands. That’s all the motivation he needs. 

“Yes, yes, thank you. Thank you.” John shucks off his pants and boxers when he stands. Scrambling on the bed to just watch for a moment. She looks even better up close, her head only inches from his bare thigh, being pushed closer from each thrust Jacob gave her. 

“Is she gonna wake soon?”

“Soon, yeah. Couldn’t give her too much bliss, didn’t want to risk it.”

John nods. It explains why she’s still receptive. Whimpering softly and rocking her hips back. Hands squirming on the sheets to find something to hold onto. 

John likes to think of her slowly becoming aware of her surroundings only to realize that she’s being fucked and that she can hardly breathe. John’s cock rammed down her throat. His balls tighten; imagining how blessedly amazing that would feel. He isn’t gentle when he opens her mouth with his fingers, knocking her teeth out of the way and sending up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t chomp down on his flesh. 

It’d be ironic considering what she thought of him. 

“There we go, Rook. Take it…” he arches his back at the sudden warmth of her mouth. “Christ.”

John thrusts inside her mouth shallowly, he’s up on his knees, hoping for a better angle, which works out more in his favor when he realizes he isn’t going to miss the way her ass ripples from the force of Jacob fucking her. He can’t help it when he tangles his hand in her hair and  _ tugs.  _ Like he expects, she chokes, her throat closing up around the same time she snaps back into reality. The bliss finally releasing its last hold on her. 

Rook looks up, her eyes still a little foggy. Pupils slowly returning to somewhat of a normal size. She finds him first, aware that she’s slick but not yet sure why. Her brows furrow beautifully before a groan escapes her. Her hands come up to claw at his hips and she tries to get up on her knees, to treat Jacob properly. Because by now she understands what’s going on. And she’s not adverse to it. 

“Oh darling,” John coos when she swallows around him, squirming in closer to take his cock deeper. “You like this, don’t you?” She doesn’t answer, focuses on Jacob’s wandering hands that slip between her thighs. “C’mon, Rook, answer me, say yes.”

She can’t say anything right now. So graciously, John slips out of her mouth and tips her chin up with a single finger. Her lips are puffy and red, already swollen from his rough treatment. 

“Yes,” she finally manages to croak. Leaning in close to lick John’s cock eagerly. Her eyes are wide and shining, a mischievous little glint he’s never seen before. 

“You can have it,” he assures her when she hesitates. Groaning softly when she takes him again inside the warmth of her mouth. Almost down to the base, where her nose scrunches when his pubic hair brushes her skin. 

“She’s close,” Jacob mumbles breathlessly, and foolishly John almost forgot he was there. That this isn’t some intimate moment between him and Rook, that she’s not solely happy just because of him. He’s not too sure she’ll ever be. Which makes anger rise in John’s throat. “You’re gonna come for us, baby girl?” Jacob asks, laughing when she whines loudly, head jerking into a nod. “Yeah I bet you’d love to. Gotta let John finish first, though. You don’t come ‘till he does.”

John’s so fucking grateful for that. For Jacob setting those rules and for being assertive enough that somehow he’s able to make Rook bend to his will. Something John’s never been able to accomplish.

She’s attentive now though, sucking and slurping lewdly around his length. Eager hands wrapping around his slim waist to pull him close. She strokes up and down his flank, squeezing his ass with a hum when he groans, releasing into her mouth with a few last thrusts. 

Rook doesn’t let go, she keeps him inside her mouth long after he’s gone soft. As if she wants a round two, like she’s trying her best to get him hard again. Maybe she actually wants him to fuck her. The idea makes it hard to focus, so when Jacob comes and Rook follows soon after John’s too wrapped up in the thought of getting to push himself inside her pussy. 

“That all you wanted, John?”

John shakes his head to clear his mind and smiles, petting Rook’s cheek lovingly, “absolutely, Jacob. I’m worried, I must admit. I’m not too sure how fast a learner she is.”

“You suggesting a repeat?”

“Wouldn’t be adverse to it.” John laughs. Eyes locking with Rook. “She doesn’t have much of a choice though. She’s ours.” 


	74. Breeding Kink pt 1 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breeding kink with John

John’s moving steadily inside her. Arching his back with a hand placed on his hip, trying to go deeper. It steals a moan from her and she instinctively pushes her hips back to meet his thrusts. 

He moans as she does so, eyes fluttering shut. 

“You’re gonna make me come,” he mumbles, hands moving along her spine. Making swirling patterns until he reaches her hair and tugs it. Forcing her head up and off the pillows. 

“Want to,” she pants, half delirious as he drills deeper inside her. “I want you to come inside me.” Her whole body shakes as he pounds into her cunt harder, making his headboard bang against the wall. 

“Gonna let me this time?” She hears the smile in his voice, the mere thought of it makes him twitch inside her. Eager to get further in, to plant a flag, to finally show everyone that she’s his. “Huh?” He spanks her. Hard. Makes her walls clench and bear down on his cock. “Can I finally breed you?” 

Rook whimpers at his words, wincing as he yanks at her hair and forces her head back fully. Just enough for him to be able to bend down and suck at her neck. It makes him push inside her even more, stealing all the breath from her lungs. 

He does this every single time. Marks her up that even the high collar of her uniform can’t hide the harsh bruises he makes. Right now, it’s no different. He sucks at the skin of her throat, teeth scratching and tugging before he soothes the bite with his tongue. 

John kisses up to her ear, nipping playfully as he fucks her with small thrusts. “Answer me, my dear.”

“I—“ Rook can’t say yes. As much as he wants her to, she can’t. It’s they’re unspoken nerve, a topic that’s too sensitive to bring up anywhere else than in the bedroom. He wants to come inside her, to impregnate her. The term sounds so clinical that it makes her shiver. She’s scared that all this is to him is a kink. That the idea of seeing him come inside her, the fact that there’s a small chance of her having a baby, turns him on.

But what about the actual baby? Would he love it, would he really want it? The answer seems clear, and she can’t do that to a child. 

So she says no every single time. 

“Rook,” his words are a tight growl when he lets her go. Shoving her head down against the bed with enough force to make her ears ring as he rights himself. He gets more erratic the longer she’s quiet, and if she doesn’t answer him soon, he’ll do it anyway. 

“No. No, don’t. Please, John.”

“Fuck you,” he bites, and she doesn’t wince or cringe, she doesn’t feel any pain in her heart because she knows that he loves her. He wouldn’t make the offer of bringing her into his life permanently if he didn’t. 

“Fuck you. Fuck you.” He slams into her one last time, his cock jerking before he’s pulling out and releasing his load on her stomach and inner thighs. Painting her skin with his come. It goes uncomfortable tacky almost immediately, but she can’t complain. It’s apart of John, and she adores John.

“C’mere,” Rook pulls him, lets him collapse down on top of her with his head buried in the crook of her neck. For a few minutes it’s just their soft breaths and nothing more, she feels him shake above her with unchecked rage. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not quite sure that’s true, my dear.”

“I am.”

“If you were, you’d accept me. You’d stop hurting me by refusing.”

Rook’s heart clenches when she feels him shudder as she runs her nails through her hair. She knows he craves this affection, that he wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

“I will.” 

John scoffs at what he assumes is an empty promise. Something to placate him.

“Baby, look at me,” she grabs his chin and tilts his head up, until their eyes lock and she can’t resist the urge to lean in and kiss him. “I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” she laughs helplessly, kissing him, letting him bite hungrily at her lip. “I love you so much, John. And one day, I’ll be all yours. I just can’t right now.”

He sighs, nipping at her collarbone, “can’t wait.” Then he’s rolling off her, bringing air back into her lungs. “You’re killing me though, I want you to know that.”

She laughs again, squirming closer to him until he wraps her in his arms. “I know. But you like it.”

John smiles, something she’s beginning to see more often. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, my dear.”


	75. Pierced pt 1 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook really wants to have a go with John after finding out he has a piercing down there

John’s different, to say the least. 

When she meets him, a chance encounter at the local bakery, he doesn’t strike her as the Montana type. It’s like he’s from somewhere else entirely, though from where, he doesn’t say. She’s not too sure he’ll ever tell her. He’s more secretive than she ever figured a man could be. 

It’s strange then, how without revealing anything about himself he somehow speaks enough to spark her curiosity. His words have a twang she’s not used to, and his fancy clothes don’t do a thing to help him fit in. Though she’s not entirely sure that’s what he wants. 

He’s  _ cute  _ though. So when he slips her his number, hand cupping the curve of her ass through her jeans’ pocket, she can’t resist calling him. 

It’s dark when she visits him, in a cabin that he claims is his own but doesn’t reflect his personality at all. He’s more than warm, a perfect host in every way. 

“So, what do our finest in Hope County get up to on their days off?”

She leans back on his leather couch, fingers drawing lazy circles on the arm. “Not much, to be honest,” she laughs, head dipping nervously. It’d been too long since she’d been on anything she could consider a date. 

“You must have  _ some  _ hobbies.”

He angles his body towards her, knee bumping against hers. It sends a tingle up her spine, and a shiver she can’t suppress makes John smile. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess.” When he raises an eyebrow she clears her throat with a blush and realizes that this is how conversations are supposed to work. “Fishing. And drawing, though I can’t say I’m too good at it.”

He nods, perking up immediately, “a fellow artist, hm? I think we should drink to that.”

“You’ve got alcohol?”

He laughs—it’s resounding and clear, ringing like a bell and filled with confidence that makes her swoon. “Yes, I do, my dear. I don’t partake often but…” he trails off, giving her a sheepish look as he bends down to slide open a drawer full of tall, thin bottles. Wine from the look of it. 

“Do you have a preference?” He tips his head towards his stash and starts rattling off names she doesn’t recognize, “Heidsieck, Château Cheval Blanc, Château Lafite's, Screaming Eagle Sauvignon Blanc.”

Rook snorts, “what even is that last one? ‘Screaming Eagle?’” 

“It’s a grape blend, green and flinty.” 

“...Right. What is it you said you do again?”

He laughs again, wrapping a tattooed hand around the neck of a random bottle, “I didn’t.”

He deposits two glasses down with ease, like he’s done this before. Like she’s not the first woman to take a look at his dashing blue eyes and neatly trimmed beard and rushed into his home. 

“Do you do this to all the women you meet at the bakery?”

He purses his lips, thinking before he loses his cool and breaks, a smile quirking his lips up as he caps off both glasses. “And all the men.”

That startles a laugh out of her, has her shoulders shaking and tears away the last of her inhibitions and anxieties as she leans against him, their heads barely just bumping together. 

They talk about everything and nothing. She tells him about where she grew up and her innate love for her parents, she lets him know what foods she hates and the allergy she has to honey that makes her look like she has chicken pox. And he dodges her questions like an expert. She’d care more about that, wondering why he won’t talk about his past, why he’ll only mention his brothers  _ now,  _ not what they did or the memories they have, if she wasn’t so drunk. 

He’s tipsy too, though able to hold liquor better than she can by a mile, throat working away like a piston as he downs his fourth glass. 

Rook reaches out without thinking, cups his cheek and flicks her thumb back and forth playfully. Interrupting his excuses for the question she just asked. “You’re just full of secrets aren’t you, John.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“No? Then actually tell me something about you. Something no one in Hope County knows.”

John considers, mumbling her question under his breath. “Ahh, okay, I’ve got it.”

She nods eagerly. 

“I’ve—Christ, alright, I’ve got a dick piercing.”

She laughs, the drink in her mouth dribbling down her chin. John slaps at her thigh, mock anger ruining the soft lines of his face. “Hey! That’s expensive shit.” He brings a finger to her chin, gathering the wine before pushing it past her numb lips. 

“I got it before I went to college,” he explains, like his finger isn’t in her mouth right now. “Thought girls would like it.”

She hums around his digit, sucking gently when he doesn’t pull out. Her tongue swirls around his nail, teeth scraping against his knuckle teasingly. His eyes go dark, hungry and wanting in ways she’s never seen in him before.

He clears his throat, finger popping out of her mouth as he leans back. “I think that’s enough wine for the both of us.”

Rook lets John pull her to her feet. She clings to him needily when he calls a taxi to bring her home. Mumbling something about her being far too precious to risk driving home herself.

When she wakes up—and really she’s not sure how she made it to her bed last night, her thoughts immediately go to John. How could they not? He’s different and she likes different. It’d be a shame to forget what few things he deigned to tell her. 

_ He’s got a piercing down there!  _

“Ah fuck.” She buries her head back into her pillow, a sigh escaping her lips as she feels the start of a headache come on. “I just gotta fucking see it.” She didn’t know John well enough, but she has his number and all the time in the world.

And he was a  _ man _ . They’re easy. She couldn’t imagine it’d take much. In fact…

Rook’s not thinking right, some small part of her brain knows this. But she’s hungover and she’s aching with the knowledge that they were close to  _ something _ last night. So she pats around her heap of blankets until she finds her phone. It’s almost dead, meaning she won’t have to face the repercussions for what she’s about to do until later in the day. 

Her thumb lazily swipes to find John’s contact. She hasn’t done this before, she doesn’t make it a habit. She’s not naive, she knows it’s dangerous to send risqué pictures of yourself online. Blackmail and revenge and all that. But John’s just reserved enough to not want that kind of attention. So she pushes her blankets off the floor and tugs down her shirt to reveal her bra. Nothing too amazing, she doesn’t own anything that sexy, but it’s cute. A black cup with small purple lace lining the edges. It’ll do.

The angle she’s at, lying down like she is, makes her breasts spill out, showing off skin. She snaps the shot, only getting her tired smile in the picture, he doesn't need to see the hazy lust that’s in her eyes.

She taps send—missing it too many times—before she can rethink what she’s just done. And she falls back asleep, knowing full well when she puts her phone down that it’ll be dead within the hour. 

*****

John shifts in his seat, he’s not really listening to Joseph, not like he should be. Besides, they don’t really connect anyway. Dinner tonight is awkward and painful like they always are. Jacob has that strange far away look in his eyes and Joseph doesn’t talk like John remembers.

But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? John can’t relate to his brothers. When they get lucky and a conversation doesn’t dwindle down to nothing, when Jacob’s eyes finally come to life and he speaks, John can’t say a thing. Because he doesn’t remember that time Jacob stole candy for them. Or when Jacob brought them to a watering hole to swim. He doesn’t remember Joseph holding him and soothing his cries when he fell down on the sidewalk. 

John scrapes his fork against his plate, anger bubbling up inside his chest because this isn’t what he expected when he dropped everything he had back in Atlanta to follow his brother across the country. He didn’t ask for a group of manic religious folks to look after or a dead eyed older brother who won’t talk about his nightmares. 

He was so wrapped up in the joy of being reunited with Joseph that he thought he’d follow him to the ends of the earth. Now though, even with the most beautiful view in Hope County, he regrets this. 

He startles when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, hand instinctively dropping to fish it out from his jeans. Grateful for the distraction, no longer having to pretend to listen to Joseph’s inane plans that John can’t follow. 

It’s from Rook. And it takes no time at all for John to remember who she is. The woman at the bakery who likes the same coffee cakes as him and recommended that crappy latte he’s never heard of before. The lovely little deputy he’s yet to tell Joseph about because he’s tired of Joseph judging him. Watching his every move like he’s waiting for him to fuck up and go back to his old ways. 

His eyebrows dip when he realizes that she hasn’t texted him at all. No, this is a picture. He glances up between Joseph and Jacob before he swipes it open. 

It’s...it’s Rook alright. A pretty damning picture in fact. Actually it’s pretty, period. She’s just plain pretty considering what she’s showing him. 

Her breasts are full and rounded, close to being completely on display if it weren’t for the bra she must’ve fallen asleep in. Her hand is pulling her shirt to the side for him,  _ for him,  _ the thought makes his heart race uncomfortablely because maybe Joseph is right to worry about him—he wants to fuck her—he hasn’t changed at all. 

He knows this, that’s why he slipped his phone number in her pocket, why he brought her over for drinks hoping she’s the type to get touchy feely when she’s drunk. She had, and that was almost enough for John to pull her up to his room and finish the job then and there. But something close to fear (of sin and disappointment) closed around his heart and he made sure she got home safe. Now though, now he’s angry and upset that his brothers are lifeless and  _ different  _ than he remembers and he doesn’t care now. He deserves to be happy. As it turns out, screwing Rook until she can’t even remember her own name, well that would make him very happy. 

John considers going to the bathroom, excusing himself from this horrid dinner to send a picture of his own. But he has a feeling that Rook’s not going anywhere. And he’s hoping that the more time he and his brothers spend together will equate to them acting like family, like they used to when John was a baby. 

So he slips his phone back into his pocket and leans forward with a smile, nodding along when Joseph keeps talking. He’s going on about their future, how to further things along, to solidify themselves in the community.

“I was thinking you should be the one to respond to him, John, he flies like you.” 

John blinks, doesn’t react when Jacob kicks him under the table because he's just staring.

“Who?”

“Nick Rye. He’s just down the street from you. Have you been listening?”

“Of course.”

Joseph doesnt look convinced, he tips his head curiously and sighs. “You don’t like it here.” He reaches across the table and grabs John’s hands, squeezing them too tight. “Or maybe you don’t believe me.”

Jacob glares at him from where he sits, oozing intimidation that makes John tremble inside. This is his brother but at the same time it isn’t. He shouldn’t be scared of Jacob, but he can’t help it when he knows that Jacob will gladly die for either of them. So it’s not too far of a stretch to believe that Jacob would do anything to make sure John doesn’t destroy their brother. So John blinks and speaks carefully like he's been taught in law school.

“Joseph, you know I believe you, that I believe in the power of God. That’s how I’ve been raised. I’m here, aren't I? I let go of the drugs and the--” here he stutters, shame rising inside him, “the sex. I want to be in God’s grace, I’m sick of people being disappointed in me. In not being loved. I just want to know what it feels like to be cared for. To wake up and for someone to be glad to see that I’m there. That’s why I’m with you, Joseph, because you’re my family, and if someone can show me the righteous path, it’s you.”

“Christ, Johnny,” Jacob’s voice is gravel rough when he speaks, it always is, but he softens it for John. It’s a strange change considering the way Jacob had looked at him moments before. “Ya need something, you know where to find me, kid, maybe we’ll go on a hunt when we’ve got the time. Just you n’ me, some time to clear our heads. Y’know, before things finally kick off,” he tries a smile at Joseph, lets him know that he’s in 100% whatever Joseph decides to do.

Then he’s pushing his plate away and excusing himself. Murmuring a goodnight and leaving John feeling awfully tired. 

“Go sleep, John.” Joseph speaks gently, hands still on his, “You can ride down to Nick’s in the morning, who knows, you might even become friends with him.”

*****

Rook watches him from across the yard, hands clenching at her side before her gaze resettles on Nick. “So you’re friends now, or…?

“Yeah, yeah he’s not so bad. His brothers are a little strange, but John’s chill.”

She nods, chews on her lip because all she can think about is not so nice thoughts about John. Like the fact that a day later he finally responded to her picture. A risque photo of his own. Showing off his lower half, jeans half undone with his tattooed hand cupping his bulge. 

She couldn’t exactly see the piercing he mentioned beneath his boxers, and she’s almost eager to ask him about it right here. She toys with the idea and before she knows what she’s doing she’s walking the distance to greet him. 

John catches her eyes and he absolutely lights up. A smile graces his lips and he rushes forward. Arms outstretched until he grabs her forearms. Holding her close, hesitating before he pulls her in for a hug. 

She makes a soft noise of surprise, but before she can question him John’s leaning down and whispering in her ear. “I take it you saw my picture?”

_ Oh.  _

“Y-yes.” 

She’s sure she feels him shiver against her. 

“And? What’d you think?”

Rook stifles a laugh, pulling back because she’s sure they’re attracting attention now. “Surely you don’t need me to stroke your ego. You’re fucking hot, John, you know that. And with your piercing…” her hand drops discreetly, rubbing across his cock. 

His eyebrows raise, a half smile playing on his lips. “You’re into that, huh?” He tips his head at her, grabbing her by the hand and drawing her forward. “I don’t suppose you’d object to seeing it.”

Her cheeks pinken as she glances around, yeah they’re definitely getting stares. “What makes you think I’d want to?”

“Oh darling don’t try and play hard to get now, not after how obvious you’ve made it. You want me. Just like I want you.” He’s still pulling her, leading her away from the crowd in Nick’s yard and towards his hanger. “I hope you know how to be quiet, my dear.” 

She’s been inside Nick’s hanger before, times where he’s been more than glad to show off his plane to a willing participant. Though she’s never once before thought of Nick’s workbench as a suitable place to fuck. 

John doesn’t give her a chance to protest, to question what they’re doing. Because suddenly he’s jerking her pants down her legs and letting out a low, dark chuckle. 

“No panties? Is that just for me?”

“Just shut up and get this over with, John.”

“Hm.” He kneels down, hands gently coming to rest on her ass. Squeezing and drawing a moan from her. “No, no I don't think I will. I intend to draw this out.” The warmth of his hands fade away as he stands, leaving her squirming. “Impatient,” he notes softly, almost teasingly.

She huffs, head thumping down on the hardened wood of Nick’s workbench. Her whole body is clenched in anticipation, honing in on the sounds John’s making. The slide of his zipper going down, the scuff of his shoes against the cement floor as he shuffles forward. 

John tugs her panties down, balling it up and weighing it contemplatively in his hand. He hums a song under his breath, stroking her bare cheek before leaning over and shoving her panties past her lips. “Remember, my dear, quiet. I don’t want anyone else to see this. It’s all for me.” 

Rook whimpers past the fabric in her mouth. A gasp slipping out when he prods experimentally at her entrance. She’s embarrassingly wet for him already, though he doesn’t mention it. Just pushes his finger in further until he can’t go in anymore and he crooks his finger up. Testing the waters; and she gives him the reaction he was looking for. A low groan and a buck of her hips. 

He pushes in a second finger along with the first, scissoring them apart and stretching her. Stroking her walls soothingly with a kiss to her ass cheek. His beard scratches her skin when he rests his forehead on her thigh, a sensation that makes her nerves tingle. 

“I was promised I’d see something, John.”

John laughs, his fingers gone with a wet, obscene sound. He stands fast, and it’s only now when she glances back that she realizes that he’s had his cock in his hand this entire time. Stroking himself languidly, smearing pre-come along his shaft. 

He reaches to pull her panties out of her mouth, slips them inside his vest with a smile. 

“Turn around.” 

She doesn’t need to be told twice. Her eyes dip shamelessly as she swivels on her heel, unabashedly standing in front of him when his gaze drops as well to take in the soft pink between her thighs. 

He wasn’t lying. He  _ is  _ pierced, a curved barbell that’s running along the underside of his cock. Almost hidden by the mushroom tip of his head. Her knees weaken at the sight of it, imagining it gliding along her walls and adding to that pleasure. Pressing against sensitive nerves until she’s coming. 

“Can I—?” She reaches out, takes a step until they’re practically standing chest to chest so she can drop her hand and hold him. She cradles his dick like it’s some sort of prized possession. Drawing her hand back and forth at a steady pace, head dipped to watch as her fingers catch his piercing. 

“Fuck.” His head knocks forward, bumping into hers. “W-wait. Stop,” he grabs her wrist, giving it a squeeze before he guides it away, walks forward until she’s forced up on the workbench. Her legs instinctively go to wrap around his waist. “I wanna fuck you,” he breathes agaisnt her neck, kissing a line down until he’s reaching up to tug her shirt up and off her head, pushing her bra to the side to nuzzle against her breast. 

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He’s still got his head on her chest, a faint smile playing on his lips when she cups the nape of his neck. 

“Yes John.”

Then he’s pushing  _ ininin.  _ Stealing her breath away with the sheer length he has. Eventually his cock head bumps against her cervix, making her gasp and her legs wind around him tighter. Pulling him impossibly closer. 

For a moment he lets her adjust, lets them both regain themselves before he slips out an inch and edges back in. It’s a small jerk of his hips, a barely there sort of feeling that has her wanting more. 

“Faster, please.”

“Don’t be so  _ greedy,  _ my dear.” 

She wants to refute that, tell him that he’s the one that started this. But he does pick up the pace then, pulling out almost to the tip before jamming back inside. Jostling her, making her skin chafe. Forcing her to really feel the barbell pierced on his cock. The one that teases her cunt whenever he slides inside. 

He fucks her rough, toned thighs tensing as his hips work rapidly. Grunts and groans of his own falling from his lips, hair hanging in his eyes as she struggles not to lose himself, to not let go too soon. 

“Thought we’re supposed to be—ah—quiet.”

John pulls her closer by her ass, practically lifting her up as he slams home. Nipping at her earlobe. “My reputation can afford the blow. I’m a newcomer, but you...” He’s smiling now, a sinister thing that makes her shake as she feels her orgasm approaching. “You’re a  _ deputy _ . Who would be able to look at you the same if they knew what a slut you are? So go ahead and come for me, my dear, and let’s see how quiet you want to be.” 

John’s command alone has her hurtling off the edge. Her cunt twitches, tightening around his dick one last time before she’s coming. Muffling her cries of pleasure in his shoulder. Letting him fuck her through it before he’s asking if she’s on birth control and ‘can he please just come inside her.’

She says yes. She doesn’t think she’d be able to ever deny John. 

When he pulls out his come leaks down her thighs and drips on the floor. It makes her wince as she comes down from her high, the realization of what they’d done finally hitting her. 

“Shit.”

John’s standing to the side, putting himself back in his jeans and fixing his hair. Looking for all in the world like he hadn’t just fucked her. “Was it that bad?” 

She quirks a tired smile, “dunno,” she hops off the workbench, legs almost giving way, “wouldn’t mind another test run. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.” 

He laughs, holding her in a tight hug, “not the most sauve line, but I get what you mean.” He leans down, a kiss brushing her lips. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot of you, deputy. Don’t worry, we’ve got all the time in the world for a repeat performance. Maybe I’ll give you a piercing of your own, hm? Just so we can match.”

Rook’s nodding, still a little foggy minded as he turns on his heel to make his way back towards the party. 

Over his shoulder he tosses her one last smile, calling a soft “I’ll make that a date, then.” And then he’s gone and she’s wondering what the hell she just agreed to.


	76. Orgasm Torture (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook ties John to a chair and she gives him some post orgasm torture

“I fucking hate you, I want you to know that.”

Rook nods absentmindedly, not quite listening. More focused on trailing a hand down the tense lines of John’s stomach, gliding over his raised scars before her finger brush against his cock. She wraps a hand around his length and tugs. 

She smiles at him. “You wanted this, if I remember correctly.” 

He groans when she twists her wrist, eyes slamming shut from the sharp burst of pleasure. “I said nothing about teasing me.”

She shrugs, can’t really argue with him on that front. Being tied up to this chair, handing over all the control and so much trust, yes, that was his idea. Her not letting him come, that was her. 

While one hand keeps sliding up and down his cock, the other drops to cup his balls. She massages them, groping and squeezing until his thighs tense from the pain when her nails dig in. 

Her hand glides up and circles his tip, smearing in pre-come. She finds a vein under his head and follows it down, memorizes how touching him there makes him moan so wantonly. 

She shuffles closer between his spread legs and puffs out her chest. Fully aware that his eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of her breasts. She’s just as naked as him, her way of lessening his pain. A treat, if you will. It does distract him for a moment, lips parted and panting, imagining how he’d suck at her nipples. Leaving the faint impression of his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. 

But then she’s opening her mouth and pushing his cock inside and he’s gone. His head falls back, a broken whine clawing its way up from his throat as she swallows him further. She ignores the way her body screams for air when she finally sinks down to the base. Up close as she is, all she can smell is him. Her entire being is engulfed with it, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Fuck, Rook. God, you’re so good at that.” She hears him grunt with the strain from pulling on the handcuffs, trying to touch her. To hold onto the back of her head and tangle her hair in his fist like he’s been apt to do. “Please don’t stop, darling, please. I’m so close.”

He doesn’t have to tell her for her to know. She’s been with John long enough to be able to tell when he’s about to come. It’s how she’s been able to keep him on edge for nearly two hours. 

So when she hears him gasp and feels his balls tighten in her hand, she pops off his dick with an obscene sound. 

“No, no, no. Please, Rook. Please let me come.” He’s half bent over and nearly sobbing. Hair hanging in his eyes and sweat glistening on his chest. 

She pouts, “You make a pretty picture, though.”

“Rook.” 

His voice is soft. Small almost. A tiny whimper that makes her heart clench. This is a game for them both, at any moment he could tell her to stop. They chose their safe word before hand and he’s fond of stop lights. So she knows he’s really okay, but some small part of him is suffering; and that’s enough for her to put her mouth back over his dick and suck hard. 

She hallows out her cheeks and huddles in close. Allowing him to buck his hips frantically. His desperation is clear when he keeps on like that, jerking up into her mouth with soft grunts and moans. 

She brings her hands up to keep a hold on his hips. Leaving bright red scratches down his skin that has him hurtling off the precipice she so brutally kept him from before. 

“Thank you. Thank you, Rook, God, I love you. I love you, darling.” 

Rook hums around his cock but she doesn’t let go. She sucks harder, runs her tongue along the underside of his head. Teases his sensitive skin until he lets out something akin to a whine. 

“Rook.”

It’s a warning in itself. One she’s not keen on heeding. 

She nuzzles in closer and has to hold back a laugh when he all but snarls at her. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Rook pulls away and watches the ease on his face. Then she watches that panic return when she squeezes his softening cock one last time. 

“I’m going to kill you once you set me free.” He informs her gently. Head hanging low to finally take in a breath. 

“Are you now?” Rook stands with a flourish, careful when she sits on his lap. Wrapping her legs around his hips and jutting her chest out playfully. “Won’t that be interesting.”

“Very,” he concludes flatly. He glares up at her for a moment longer. The expression falling dead when she kisses him. It’s as soft as she can make it, as soft as their relationship can ever get. 

“I love you, John.”

He laughs. “I know, my dear. I just wish you’d choose less painful methods to show me.”

“One can wish.”


	77. Caught (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rook are captured together

It had been pure chance that her and John were running together. In fact, for a couple miles, she was the one chasing him. 

It’s not often one of the heralds take the risk that comes with galavanting through their own region, and it’s not often for her to scope out an outpost that’s far beyond her skill level to get back. But today, luck was on her side. 

So when she saw John step out of his truck, sunglasses pushed up high on his nose and a terse expression, she had to take her chance.

“This is your fault.”

Rook sighs, head falling back against the tree they’re both tied to. He’s right, partially so, and they both know it.

He keeps talking, intent on getting her attention. “If you hadn’t chased me…”

“I know, John, I know.”

“Do you?” His voice is a low snarl, “there was no reason at all for you to follow me.”

“Lots of people in this county would disagree with that.”

She squirms where she’s sat, trying to get comfortable. It’s an impossible feat from how they’ve been tied. Thick, fraying ropes that are God only knows how old, loop across her middle and around John’s. Forcing them to press into each other's sides. Keeping them securely in place for…

For what she honestly doesn't know.

She’s scared, terrified actually. These people, the ones who pulled Rook off of John right before she could cuff him ‘round the head, weren’t a part of the Project. And they definitely weren’t the resistance. So why’d they intervene just to capture them both? 

John shifts, anger pushed to the side for the moment as he leans in closer; his lips brush her ear when he talks next. “Do you know them?” 

She snorts, eyes never leaving the guard that continues to pace before them. “You think that one of mine would go rogue? After all your family has done? Fuck off, John.”

“Calm down, Wrath,” He clicks his tongue when she tries to put some distance between them, “if you’d rather die…” he let his sentence hang for a moment, “then be my guest.”

“We aren't going to die.”

“Are you sure about that? They don’t seem the negotiating type.” 

“Dunno about that. You're the perfect ransom, John.”

He opens his mouth to talk, though before he can get a word out someone’s at his side and jamming a rifle to the soft, underside of his chin.

“Quiet. Both of you.”

Her eyes do a scan of this stranger’s face. Trying and failing to place it. She doesn’t look away fast enough though and the guard glances over at her, a sudden smile appearing on his face that makes her skin crawl. He looks her up and down, following the line of her dirty shirt that hangs off her shoulder from her curled up legs. 

He turns on his heel and is back to pacing before she can say anything.

She swallows her pride and breathes out a quiet whisper. “I’m scared.”

“Is that a confession?”

If she could, maybe if she wasn’t so terrified, she might kick him. Instead she curls up as much as the ropes will allow and hides herself in his side. She feels him stiffen against her for a few painful moments before relaxing. Accepting her weight into him with a sigh.

“I know you’re afraid, my dear, but we’ll be fine. I’m sure my brothers and your friends are already looking for us.” He must know that she doesn’t believe her, because he adds on a soft “they’re a determined bunch, your crew.” 

Rook shakes her head wildly, almost smashing into Johns as she does so. “No, no they’re not. No one’s looking for me. I didn’t have any plans today, nothing concrete.”

“Well then good thing you’re with me, hm? I’m meant to have been back home by now.” 

He’s trying to lighten the mood. To take her mind off of what’s happening. She appreciates the gesture, but it’s not working. It’s impossible for her to not watch the truck roll up out of the forest and watch as two men step out. She can’t not follow their every movement as they huddle together in a consprital whisper circle. She’s not imagining it when they all take glances at her.

“John—“

“Shush. We’re okay.” 

John’s wrong. They come at her and she’s helpless to do anything. She doesn't let them touch her without a fight though. She thrashes and screams like a wild thing when the wrestle her to her feet and tie an extra set of ropes around her wrists. 

She’s tossed to the ground, face first and unable to put her arms out to cushion her fall. 

Amidst all the chaos she hears John yelling. He’s cursing and threatening, calling them every bad name he must know. He’s not used to having no power, to people not either fearing or respecting him, so she understands why his voice soon grows hoarse with rage.

Someone’s on top of her before she has a chance to roll over on her back. They’re tearing at her jeans and pushing her shirt above her head, uncaring when it gets caught at her bound wrists.

“You leave her alone or so help me God—” there’s an audible grunt of pain and suddenly John’s quiet. Panic washes over her and she twists to see him. Breathing out a sigh when she realizes that he’s just dazed from a crack in the jaw from a pistol. It’s herself she should be worried about. With that in mind she tries again to fight, but her arms are pinned to the ground to keep her still and in no time at all she’s naked.

“You stand guard, Rick. You can have your turn later. Not like we’re on any kind of schedule.”

Rook lets out a little choked sob. She’d have to be stupidly naive to not have put the pieces together already. 

She feels rough hands slide up her bare thighs, they cup her ass cheeks appreciatively before raising up and landing down with a heavy slap that makes her yelp. “Spin her around. I want him to watch real good.”

It’s like that when she finds herself finally crying. Staring into John’s rage filled, hazy eyes. 

“It’s going to be okay, my dear. You’re fine. Look at me, just focus on me.” And on and on like that. He keeps talking, letting her senses fill with the sound of his voice.

She tries to bury her face in the dirt when she feels a finger slip past her folds and delve inside her. But then someone grabs her hair and forces her head up. Forcing her to look at John, forcing him to watch the way her face contorts in pain and shock and shame.

“You’re gonna like this, I promise, girlie.” 

Then someone’s slipping inside with no hesitation and she bursts out sobbing. The man with his fist tangled in her hair tugs harder, making her chest puff out for him to grab on. He gropes her breasts roughly, teasing the peaks of her nipples while he murmurs dirty words in her ears about all the things they plan on doing to her. All the while she can’t stop crying.

It’s impossible for her to see anything past the blur of tears, so she doesn't see the way John struggles against his bonds, that if the guard to his left wasn't watching her so intently then he might just see how John’s hands are working away at the rope. That the smallest amount of slack had been made when she was wrangled to the ground.

She’s being jostled back and forth, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin, of a dick slipping easily in and out of her, is starting to drive her insane. She’s not too sure how much she can take, if she’ll be able to have two other men push their way inside her and take what she never offered. 

“John,” she squeaks out, fear coating her words.

This time around she doesn't get a response, his endless babbling is gone and she doesn't know why because she's still sobbing and she can't brush away her tears. She’s seconds away from calling out for him again, desperate to hear his calming voice once more, but that’s when all hell breaks loose.

The man in front of her, meant to be guarding them, is suddenly on the ground in a flash of blood. She distantly hears the crack of bone before a body hits the ground hard. 

The one holding her wrists gets a bullet between his eyes and his crushing weight is blessedly gone. 

That leaves one more, and that’s when Rook’s mind starts to catch up. Right when John grabs the man inside her off and out. She doesn’t want to watch the scene John makes, so she doesn’t. She instead curls up on her side and just listens to John beat the ever living crap out of him. 

He kicks and punches. Destroying his face and marring his stomach with bruises. John keeps going long after he’s dead, stopping only when she weakly calls his name.

“Oh darling,” he’s by her side in an instant. Cupping her cheeks and drawing her into his lap. He lays a kiss to her forehead and apologizes endlessly. “It’s okay now. You’re okay.”

“John,” her voice is shaky and weak, and she can’t help but be ashamed because of it. “Hurts, John.”

“Oh I know. I know, Rook. I’ve got you, shhh.” He cradles her close, “you’ll come with me, won’t you? Just so I can make sure you’re safe? Let me keep you for the night.”

The mere idea of moving makes her sick. She nods anyway, let’s him know how grateful she is that he helped. She doesn’t know why he bothered, if anything he should be glad to see her suffering, but she’s grateful either way. 

“Thank you.” She squirms to wrap her arms around his neck, ghosting a kiss on his neck. “Thank you, thank you.” 

“Hush, my dear. Everything's okay now. I promise.” 


	78. Can't Go On Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook seeks John out for a confession

She’s snuck into Seed Ranch only once before. Under the cover of darkness quite like tonight and when she knew the Baptist was far from home. So it’s not difficult to execute again. If anything it’s too easy, waiting for the guards to rotate for her to slip inside his front door. It’s open a crack, letting in cool air. Showing off his cockiness. His pride. 

Rook’s seen his living room, his grand kitchen with a fridge that seems to be stocked with most of Hope County food supply. She ventured into his basement last time and found it strangely normal. The one exception would have to be upstairs, she didn’t traverse that area, which is a problem when she’s searching for John. 

In a smaller home, one more fit for a single man, there’d be only so many doors. Now though, she’s surrounded on all sides by them. It’s overwhelming 

There’s a bathroom, an office,  _ another _ bathroom, a study and a small library. All decorated beautifully, which is hard for her to admit when she’s already beyond jealous of what he’s got. This doesn’t help. Knowing that she lives in squalor while he’s in the lap of luxury. But maybe that’s her punishment, one sent straight from God himself. 

She wants to be clean, and that’s why she’s here. She’s searching for more than John right now. And it’s honestly a miracle that it takes less than ten minutes for her to locate his room. 

His window is open, curtains fluttering slightly. The moonlight helps her catch sight of him. She sees him lying flat on his back. Limbs haphazardly sprawled out in all directions over his bed. When she dares to get closer she realizes he’s naked, that it’s only by chance that his blankets tossed around during the night are covering his crotch. 

There are bruises on his chest, scratches and bandages that prove that he’s fighting in this war the same as she is. 

Rook reaches out slowly and flicks on the lamp beside his head. It’s bright, brighter than she first expected. And it has her stepping back and blinking away tears. 

The effect on John is instant. 

His eyes shoot open and he’s up. Like—jumping up and out of bed, coming at her with bared teeth. She sidesteps him easily. He’s still dazed with sleep, so when she sticks out her foot and knocks him on his ass, she isn’t surprised. 

He falls with an audible ‘oof.’ Pain laced in his tone and she instantly knows why. Regret bubbles up in her chest, flashes of those white bandages wrapped around his rib cage flashing through her mind. 

John groans low in his throat. Pushing himself up gingerly, though he stops when he’s on his hands and knees. Unwilling to go further. He glances over his shoulder and sighs. 

“Deputy.”

She averts her eyes. Too damn aware that he’s  _ naked.  _

“Can you cover up?”

He laughs. “I will,” he says stiffly, standing with careful movements. “But you have no right to sound so annoyed that I’m naked.” He’s halfway across the floor, rummaging through his dresser, “after all you’re the one who surprised me like you did. In my own home. When I’m sleeping.”

She nods, only turning when she hears the telltale sign of a zipper rising. He’s still bare chested, and really that's worse than seeing what’s below his belt. Seeing his sins is a stark reminder for why she’s here. It shows that he’s been forgiven. Reminds her that she hasn’t. 

“Deputy?”

She doesn’t realize that she’s crying until John’s standing in front of her, a hand coming up to hold his finger out and catch a single tear. Holding it up almost as if he can’t believe it. 

“Why are you here?”

She shrugs, feeling foolish, like a child. “I wanted to talk.”

For a moment she thinks he’s about to kick her out. Maybe sound the alarm and get her killed. But he just sighs real heavy. “You have lots of friends to talk to.”

“Yeah, but you’re the Baptist. You take confessions...you don’t judge, it’s not in your line of work.” 

“You—you want a confession?” 

He steps closer to her, bare feet knocking against her dirtied boots. His eyes shine, lips quivering when she doesn’t say anything at first. 

“Yes.” 

“Oh, there we go.” It comes out as a low groan. His hand comes up to grab her hip as he tips his head down. She’s seen this before, and so she leans down with him and lets their foreheads bump. 

He guides her to his bed, clasping her hand tightly. He curls his hand around hers, lets his nails dig into virgin flesh. 

“Tell me whatever, deputy. Anything that comes to mind. Tell me.” 

He’s so...sure about this. Her breaking into his home. Him being in nothing but a pair of jeans in front of her. 

Rook flounders, she isn’t sure where to start. How much he’ll accept of what she says. She needs to say something though, soon, because he’s staring at her with those baby blue eyes of his and it’s getting to be a lot. 

“I woke up these past couple of weeks confused about what I was doing. If what I’m fighting for is right or—or just. How do you know?”

John doesn’t say anything when she stops speaking. He does, however, hold his chin between his fingers. He scratches through his beard and squints in what she thinks should be a show of thoughtfulness. 

“It’s simple for us—my family and I—I mean, to know such a thing.” She narrows her eyes, they both know that’s not the kind of answer she had been looking for. “God has spoken to my brother. We are following what the Lord wants. It doesn’t get much clearer than that.” 

There’s a lot wrong about what he said, but she can’t harp on that right now. She’s learned not to fight about people with certain things. Politics, religion, all sorts of views people have that they refuse to budge on. You’ll hardly ever change someone’s mind with those topics, and John’s no different. 

“This isn’t a fair fight,” she argues softly, “I’ll ask you right now if killing your people has been justified, but you’ll say no, because we aren’t exactly on the same side.”

“I try not to be biased.” He raises a hand to his chest, rubs over his sloppy scar with a scratch through the middle. “You’re correct though with your assumption. I’m right.  _ We’re  _ right, and your petty resistance is wrong. So instead of asking questions, tell me why you’re here.”

Rook grinds her teeth in annoyance. She told herself she wouldn’t fight or banter, but the urge is rising. She had been on the verge of something, ready to argue. She pushes it down the best she can and sighs noisily. 

John’s all smiles and patience. He doesn’t chastise her when it takes a good five minutes for her to speak again. 

“I don’t think what I’m doing is just. It can’t be. Not with the nightmares I’ve been having or the horrible feeling I have every time I see another Peggie, one that I know I might kill one day. Or maybe someone whose family member I killed. Someone I’ve left a widow.” 

“You don’t want to kill.” There’s amusement in his voice. Mirth, too. Like she’s joking.

_ That son of a bitch. _

“Of course not!”

For what it’s worth, he doesn’t call her out for her wrath. 

“Then why do you do it? Why have you fought my family so hard when you could’ve joined us?”

She laughs and falls back on her elbows. Letting herself sink into the comfort of his pillows. “You took my friends, traded them among you and your siblings like they were fucking puppies for Christmas. Your family didn’t want me any more than you wanted my co-workers, I would’ve kept locked up as a prisoner. I couldn’t win either way. I was fucked.”

He murmurs something that vaguely sounds like he’s telling her not to swear, and she sighs again. Covering her eyes with dirty palms. 

“I’m tired, John. How’s that for a confession?” 

He chuckles, “it’s a start.” 

Her hand falls away from her face and she looks over to him right as he pulls his legs up off the floor and comes to collapse beside her. 

She raises her eyebrows at him and he just shrugs. “You’re in my spot. I prefer the left side, it’s cozier. Feels safer somehow.”

When she doesn’t say anything he frowns. Squirming closer to her until their arms touch. 

“Tired mentally, physically? Explain, deputy.”

“Both, I guess. Killing takes a toll on anyone. Even if you try to block it out, say you’re in the right, that if you hadn't shot them they would’ve shot you—it doesn’t matter. You’re still tired at the end of the day.” 

“I don’t kill often. I harm, I maim, I try not to kill.”

“Because…”

“Because I don’t want to go through what you’re going through.”

That...hadn’t been what she expected. She bolts up at his words, confusion marring her face, ruining the soft lines there. “What?” It’s just a whisper, a gentle breath only meant to be shared between the two of them. 

“You heard me. I’ll say it again though,” he closes his eyes and winces, placing his hands over his stomach. “I’ve killed people before, back when we first started really. And it...was not pleasant. Then I did it again. And again. And when I asked Jacob how to cope...he said he’s still trying to work that out himself.” John looks at her now as he sits up.

Considering her. 

“I can’t help you. I can’t take that burden away. But I’ll listen, sometimes that helps.” He takes her by the elbows and pulls her in. Pulling her in as close as they can be sitting on his plush mattress. 

“Talk to me, deputy.” 

He cups the nape of her neck and tugs her down, following the same ritual as before when he guides her head down until they connect with a soft thud. 

“You’re safe now.”


	79. Take Me To Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook takes over a radio station and plays him a song that reminds her of the Baptist

The valley is beautiful from up this high. She can see all the way to the mountains in the north. Joseph’s statue sort of ruins it, a stark reminder on just  _ why  _ she climbed this radio tower, but she takes a moment to enjoy the view. Then she gets to work. She’s not too sure what she’s doing, simply put, this isn’t her forte. She’s 28 and she’s fixed her dad’s laptop a couple of times when it’s gotten slow and screwy, but this is out of her wheelhouse. 

She’s staring at a box full of wires and right now she prays the tips Eli gave her last week pays off. He was the best source she could’ve asked for. His group of people is among the only people who’ve tampered with the radio towers scattered through the county. Even if they had only  _ broken  _ them, not reconfigured them. 

This morning she’s blessedly free and she might as well give it a shot. 

Carefully she prods at the wires, twisting them around and taking occasional glances at her phone. She doesn’t have the know how to make calls go through, no one does, but iTunes still works, WIFI or not, and that’s all she needs. 

It takes no more than an hour—better than she expected—and she’s in. The whole of Holland Valley is listening. 

“John Seed, I’m almost positive you’re hearing this.” A lie really, the man’s busy, she hardly ever sees him outside of when he  _ wants  _ her. She’s buying for time, hoping that word gets to him soon. “I bet someone’s panicking, whether it’s your flock or your family...or you. Hopefully you.” 

Carefully Rook sits down on the rickety platform. Her legs hang off and she swings them back and forth, the picture of carefree grace when she feels like anything but. 

“This broadcast is dedicated to you, after all, it’d be a shame if you missed it.” 

Her hands shake as she swipes through her phone. Finding the colorful music note at the bottom of the screen that she knows so well, hell, her music is the only thing keeping her sane nowadays. 

She hesitates over the choice of song. She’s debated it long and hard for weeks. She’s asked people their own opinion, played and replayed songs whenever she’s had a second not filled with death and gunfire. 

Rook doubts John will know the song, but he’ll listen. He’ll hear it and, fingers crossed, maybe he’ll understand why everyone she asked said that this song fits him so perfectly. Why she can’t help but picture him when she hears it. 

The first few notes play, and deep inside John’s bunker, he chuckles. He was waiting for something big, an attack or some sort of firework display. Not whatever this is. 

He has time for this though, those meant to give confessions today aren’t going anywhere. He leans back in his chair and folds his hands over his stomach, letting his eyes fall shut. 

_ My lover's got humor _

_ She's the giggle at a funeral _

_ Knows everybody's disapproval _

_ I should've worshiped her sooner _

_ If the heavens ever did speak _

_ She's the last true mouthpiece _

_ Every Sunday's getting more bleak _

_ A fresh poison each week _

_ "We were born sick" _

_ You heard them say it _

John tilts his head, cracks his neck with a sigh. It’s a slow song with a sweet melody, different from his taste. But it’s almost like a gift from Rook herself, so he doesn’t shut off his radio, nor he does order his men to intercept what she’s doing. 

_ My church offers no absolutes _

_ She tells me "Worship in the bedroom" _

_ The only Heaven I'll be sent to _

_ Is when I'm alone with you _

_ I was born sick, but I love it _

_ Command me to be well _

_ Amen, Amen, Amen _

Ah. Ah, okay, he gets it now. He laughs again, and there’s anger in it. He’s not sure what kind of implications she wants him to get, but it feels as if she’s toying with his religion. All they’ve built, and he’s only human, it hurts. 

_ Take me to church _

_ I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies _

His lips twist. He’s heard everything a person can say about Christianity, every horrible thing someone can think of to make your heart bleed. It’s not a new wound, but it stings. Reminds him painfully of the Duncans. 

_ I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife _

_ Offer me that deathless death _

_ Good God, let me give you my life _

_ Take me to church _

Now he smiles, though it’s mean. A spiteful thing. She’s playing with fire, and she must know it.

The chorus repeats and he wishes it didn’t. He leans back further in his chair, makes the front legs come up off the ground. He stays suspended there in thought before coming back to himself. He falls down with a hard thud that pops his eyes open and shakes his skull. 

He tries to tune out what comes next. Something that vaguely could tie back to Rook, and some lines that remind him too much of Jacob’s trials and his sacrifices. 

John falls forward, banging his elbows painfully on the desk in front of him. He runs his fingers through his hair and tries not to think of the kind of talk him and Joseph are going to have later about how this kind of thing should be impossible.

_ We've a lot of starving faithful _

_ That looks tasty _

_ That looks plenty _

_ This is hungry work _

_ No masters or kings when the ritual begins _

_ There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin _

The mention of sin makes his brows raise lazily. Cute, how she likes to fuck with him. 

_ In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene _

_ Only then I am human _

_ Only then I am clean _

_ Oh, oh Amen, Amen, Amen _

With a shake of his head he stands abruptly. He grabs his coat from where he hung it up over the back of his chair and slings it on with a flourish. He’s quick to snap the radio off, it’s all recorded, if Rook has any last minute messages, he’ll hear about it eventually. 

He’s busy now. That should’ve been enough of an excuse to make him not sit in the first place but…

He storms through the winding halls of his bunker. Taking a clipboard from one of his men who follows at his heels and waves it. When he ascends the stairs that leads to his confession room, he finds himself humming the chorus. 


	80. Parenthood pt 2

“What do you think?” 

It’s big. A place she might get lost in. She doesn’t say that though. Instead she glances up at John and smiles the best she can. It wobbles though, and she knows he sees right through her. 

“It’s pretty.” 

“Well it’s ours now, sweetheart. Come, let me give you the grand tour.”

He leads her along by her hand, and for that she’s strangely grateful. His brothers scare her. The way they look at her makes her insides turn. 

It doesn’t help that Joseph keeps touching her. Reaching out to pet her hair or cup her cheek. Sometimes when John steps away Joseph will be the one to place a hand in the center of her back as if she’s going anywhere. She almost prefers Jacob because of that. He watches her closely, but he hasn’t touched her, unless he’s restraining her. Holding her back to keep her from bolting. 

For now she sticks to John. Which makes him happy, he doesn’t do much to hide those emotions. 

“She may be tired, John. Maybe now isn’t the best time for a tour.”

John’s body goes tight at Joseph’s voice. Annoyance ruining the soft lines of his face. “It’s her home. She needs to know where everything is.”

“Yes but—“

“For Christ’s sake, let the kid decide.” 

She really wished Jacob hadn’t suggested that. She cringes under their gazes, eyes shifting to the floor. 

She does a quick scan of the living room, catching sight of a kitchen and a large set of stairs. The prospect of sleeping sounds wonderful. The plane ride was equal amounts terrifying and exhilarating. 

“Can’t I…can I sleep?”

John’s throat bobs with a swallow, but he nods quickly nonetheless. “Of course. You can do anything you want.” 

It’s a weird thing to say after he kidnapped her, but she can’t question it. He’s already squeezing her hand and leading her up the winding staircase. Humming a sweet tune under his breath as he swings open a door with a soft ‘ta-da.’ 

“This is my room?” Elise steps in and is suddenly very confused. It’s more than accommodating. It’s twice the size of her bedroom back home. 

She glances back at John and he just nods, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“It is.” 

“Holy shit.” She walks in further, fully intending to leap into bed and try to sort things out in her head. But she hears Joseph’s tone chastising her language. 

And how dare he. He’s her uncle, they’re bound by blood, but she didn’t choose to be born. She didn’t choose to have this life. She certainly didn’t want to move to Montana, to wonder where the hell her mother is. 

“You aren’t my dad,” she snaps, not even turning around. It’s something said without thought. Something she’s said before to teachers and mentors, she’s said it before when she didn’t know her dad. Times when her dad wasn’t standing in the same room as her. 

And it’s the wrong thing to say: because it makes John blissfully happy. Giddy almost. He laughs brightly before rushing forward and winding an arm around her shoulders, spinning her around. “No, no he’s not, sweetheart.” John leans down then and kisses the crown of her head, and she cringes. Recoiling as soon as he lets go. 

If he notices it, he doesn’t mention it. He simply walks forward and ushers his brothers out of the room. Closing the door behind him. 

And locking it. 

It’s impossible to miss that noise. She’s trapped now. And who knows what they’re going to do to her? 

*****

She’ll give him ten minutes before he realizes that she’s gone. That as soon as he stepped out the kitchen to make a phone call she ran out the backdoors when his patrol rotated. 

The brush around his house is blessedly thick, the perfect cover to slip past the men guarding his house. Which once again makes her wonder just who he is. Because these people worship John, the second she stepped out of his car, his hand engulfing hers, they flocked to him. Their eyes absolutely lit up whenever he gave them even an iota of attention. 

She wanted to scream, to jump in front of their faces and ask how they thought this was all okay. That the sudden appearance of a fully grown daughter wasn’t strange. Didn’t they see the panic in her eyes? That she cringed under his touch and tried to dance away from him? 

He’s a powerful man, there’s no denying that, it’s obvious that his name holds respect. Maybe even fear. Whatever the case, he's important enough to be surrounded by an army of people bearing guns. After that kind of display she took the first chance she had. That’s why she ran. That’s why she took the risk. 

She’s not sure where she is. She just knows she’s moving through the woods at a breakneck speed, sending furry little creatures in all directions. She makes sure that she’s close enough to the road that she won’t lose it. If she does, she’d be well and truly screwed. 

Elise is pretty sure she went in circles a few times. Passing by a large tree trunk that looked too familiar or a crack in the pavement that she’s positive she’s seen before. She stops suddenly, fists clenching tight at her sides. She breathes out noisily, fighting back the tears that threaten to drag her down completely. 

That’s when she hears the plane. 

Her first instinct is to dive to the ground. To take cover and pray that whoever is above isn’t looking for her. For some reason though, before she tosses herself to the floor, she looks up, past the trees, to get a good look at this plane.

It’s flying high. A bright yellow thing that makes it impossible to miss. Elise’s muscles tighten when the plane veers to the left to lower itself slowly. 

She’s an idiot, she realizes. There’s a goddamn air strip right beside her. It’s not swarming with men wielding guns. No radio blaring out music that sounds vaguely threatening. No, just a single woman sitting outside, eyes focused on the plane. Her face is tight with agitation, a look of concern so clearly written on her face that it makes Elise’s heart clench. It makes her think of her own mom. She has an urge to run to this woman, to be swept up in her arms and told that everything will be okay. 

But then the plane’s landing and a young girl is stepping out—a look of pure joy on her face. She makes a bee line to the woman and starts talking a mile a minute. Elise can’t help herself, she gets as close as she dares without revealing herself just to listen.

Elise catches a glimpse of who must be the girl's father,climbing out of the plane at a much more reserved pace. It’s picture perfect. Something she’s always longed for, a normal family. It strikes her how unfair this is right then. She hadn't thought about it on the flight to Montana, when John wouldn’t let go of her hand. She was too numb to think about the injustice. Now though, it’s rushing through her head, and she can’t stop herself from stepping out from the woods and walking at a slow, steady pace. 

She’s more than aware of what her mom had told her of Hope County, Montana. This was once a war zone. And the thought that it still could be makes her shudder. 

“Excuse me?” 

Guns. Guns pointing her way and being cocked, ready to fire. She recoils immediately, putting her hands up. There’s a tense pause, one where she thinks that she might be shot and killed on these backstreets. 

Christ even the kid has a gun—though up close as she is now, the girl seems older than her. Maybe 19. Young, but apparently old enough to wield a gun. 

“Hi.” Elise’s voice cracks, pain lacing her words. She’s shaking out of her skin, aware that she’s only been here three days, that she didn’t have the time to think of a plan. She didn’t even bring anything with her. She just ran. 

“I need help,” she continues when no one says anything. “I’m not—“ she waves her hand with a glance behind her, “I’m not with  _ them.”  _ She frowns when the man and woman share glances between each other. Saying a hundred things in that single look. “I was kidnapped.” Her hands clench into fists, slowly lowering as fatigue finally sets in. 

“What’s your name kid?”

“Kim…”

Elise’s lip twitches. She knows this woman, she’s seen her in the pictures her mom showed off. She looks different, hair longer, face aged. But it’s her. And the young girl next to her—that’s her mom's godchild. 

Elise’s chest tightens, this has to be the best case scenario. If they don’t take her in then who will?

“Your name?”

She takes a step forward, trying to ignore the guns still trained on her “Elise. My mom is Rook, she lived here for a while—“

“Fuck.” 

The man, Nick, she remembers that, aims his gun downward. He stares at her like he’s seen a ghost, like she’s not truly there.

“Holy shit, Kim.” Nick stumbles forward, a hand clapping down on his wife’s shoulder. “We gotta...we need to take her in. We gotta help her.”

“I know, I know, just…” 

Kim runs her hands through her hair before extending her hand, offering safety. Elise takes it without thought, tumbles of praise slipping out past her lips. 

“I was at John’s ranch, it’s close, they might be following me—“

“They definitely are.” Nick mutters, turning on his heel and nudging the girl on her shoulder. “We need to get ready.” 

Get ready. 

Those words don’t lend themselves to what they actually end up doing. It doesn’t describe how much panic ensues in the next few minutes. How everyone’s running and barking orders and making phone calls and she’s sitting on the couch with her hands in her lap. Wondering if she shouldn’t have run. Her mother is back there, stuck with those psychopaths. Maybe she should’ve waited. 

It’s sitting there that she perks up, head cocking to the side. Trucks. The sound of a plane and rumbling cars getting closer. 

“Kim! Nick!” 

She backs away from the windows, pushing herself in a corner until Kim steps into the room and grabs her arm. They take the stairs two at a time and she’s being herded into a bedroom. 

“We’ve made arrangements for you to go to Fall’s End, do you know where that is?”

“N-no. I’m sorry.”

Kim winces as a flash of headlights shine on their house. 

“We don’t have a map…” she bends down and grabs ahold of Elise’s shoulders. “You have to run. We’ll get you out the backdoor, and from there you just run right ahead of you. It’s a straight shot. You won’t miss it, it’s a small town, but one of the only we’ve got.” 

“I’ll be safe there?” 

Kim‘s lip twists. “Safer than we’ll be able to keep you.” They both flinch are the sound of slamming doors and the crunch of boots on gravel. 

“C’mon.” 

They don’t waste time going slow, no need, they know she’s here. Where else would she go? 

She catches a glimpse of Nick and their daughter flanking either side of the door. Whispering between the two of them, only glancing over momentarily. 

Kim hesitates at the threshold of the back door, a hand holding onto her shoulder. Brows creased and nervous. 

Elise is about to ask if she should stay and fight, maybe ask if they’ll be okay, because she doesn’t want anyone getting hurt over her. She’ll hand herself over if that means no one will die. But then Kim’s talking first. 

“How’s Rook doing?”

“She’s…” Elise looks down, “she’s happy. I think—sometimes I think she wants to come back here. She talks about this place a lot, about you guys.”

Kim laughs, leaning in and surprising her when she kisses her forehead. Pulling her in for a tight hug. 

Elise closes her eyes when she hears voices floating towards them. She can’t tell if it’s John or not, but it’s scary nonetheless. 

“Hurry up and run, don’t let them catch you.”

Elise slips out the door and walks the first few steps before the adrenaline kicks in and her situation dawns on her and she begins to run. She tears off across the field and prays that no one will see her. There’s tall grass ahead of her. It’s far, a mile? Maybe. She can’t tell. 

Her arms pump as she runs faster, head falling to watch her feet move so she doesn’t have to focus on what might be behind her. 

Any minute now she’s waiting for herself to be caught. For someone to scream out at her to stop, for a bullet to find it’s home inside her. 

That never comes. 

She makes it. 

She drops to the ground immediately. Intent on catching her breath before she makes another sprint. Her cheek presses into the grass and she whimpers. Fingers clutching tufts of green and yellow. 

Elise wills the pressure behind her eyes to go away, she can’t cry. Now isn’t the time. She has to move, she needs to get somewhere safe. Kim hadn’t told her who would be waiting for her at Fall’s End, but Elise has a myriad of names stored in her head that her mom has given her. 

She’ll find someone. She doesn’t have a choice. 


	81. Breeding Kink pt 2

“Darling, are you awake?” 

John touches her gently, a hand cupping her cheek, another curling around her waist and dragging her across silk sheets towards him until she’s plastered against his side. 

“Rook.” He speaks into the shell of her ear, hot breath making her hair stand on end. “I know you’re not asleep.” 

Rook curls further into her cocoon of blankets. Trying to ignore him. Something she was once very good at. He only creeps closer, laying a kiss to her bare shoulder. 

It’d be easier to fool him if they weren’t so near. If he hadn’t insisted—like he does every time they fall asleep beside one another—to face her. Just so he can watch the even breaths that pass out between slightly parted lips and see her eyebrows pinch and relax throughout the night. 

It’s sweet. Him watching over her. 

Except for when he interrupts her much needed sleep. 

“We have a lot to talk about, you and me.” 

He kisses her again, this time on her lips. It’s a soft press of something more to come, the kind of thing that she can’t resist. She moans into his mouth, kissing him back. Wrangling a hand into his hair to deepen it. 

She hates him right now, as much as she loves it when he’s fucking her into a boneless heap on his bed, right now she can’t help but hate him. He doesn’t have the right to snake his way into her life, to embed himself so close that this no longer feels wrong. 

He broke her walls down over time. Wore away at her wrathful exterior with a tiny chisel until he saw little gaps of light, of hope for her soul. For redemption. She’s partly to blame. She let him in. She kept coming back, went out of her way to find a free moment in this godforsaken county just to crawl into his bed. 

He pulls away from her, a string of saliva connecting them for half a second that she follows with her eyes until it breaks. 

“You haven’t been entirely forthcoming with me, have you, Rook?”

She doesn’t know how to respond. There are lots of things they hide from each other. It’s how their life has to be. They’re not on the same side after all, they’re enemies. It’d be foolish to divulge secrets. 

“Answer. Me.” He taps at her cheek to enunciate his words. Throwing a leg across hers, effectively trapping her. 

She groans, squirming in his grasp and knocking against his cock—which is on its way to being fully hard again, even after the hours they spent rutting into one another. 

“What, John?”

“Ahh, there she is,” he coos, “don’t ignore me.”

“I figured if I didn’t answer then you’d give up.” She grasps his shoulders and shoves him away. Creating distance between them so she can sit up properly. Hoping to knock his brain away from the idea that she’d be up for another round. She stretches, lets her bones pop before resettling against the mound of pillows behind her. 

He follows suit, sitting up and dragging the blankets with him. “When have you ever known me to give up?”

She sighs as an answer, tossing her arm across her eyes. “What’s so important? Why’d you wake me up?” 

She ignores the fact that she rarely sleeps after they fuck anyway. Occasionally they share a blunt between them, sometimes if he’s feeling extra tense, if the week had been more difficult—namely because of her— that they would totally be up for another chance at rolling around together to create as much sin as they can; but she doesn’t trust herself to sleep beside him. 

It scares her that she was so close this time. That she’s only delaying the inevitability of saying yes. 

“Perhaps you could save me the trouble of prying it out of you and you could just tell me your new secret.” He holds up a finger when she opens her mouth, “and don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. There’s only so many things it could be.” 

They stare at each other for a long while. Her mind bouncing between what he could’ve heard through the grapevine or something she let slip without realizing it. 

It dawns on her all at once what he’s referring to. What’s gotten him so worked up, why he was so damn careful even as he railed her into his mattress. “Can I have a hint?” She asks instead. Delaying it. Always delaying it. 

“Of course, of course.”

He cups her cheek again and drags her in for a kiss, it’s brief but territorial. He tips their heads together afterwards, nails forming crescents on her jaw. “It concerns you and I, these...escapades we’ve been having, as well as your inability to say yes.” 

She swallows. Wincing. She’d love nothing more than to be anywhere else right about now, to be having this conversation over a radio instead so he couldn’t manipulate her with his honey covered words and rough touches that make her head spin. 

“Roo—ook.” He sings her name, stretching it out as he tilts his head to the side playfully. “Speak up, my dear.” 

“I’m sure we both know what you’re talking about, John, we don’t need to do this song and dance. Just forget what you heard—“

He pushes his finger to her lips. Silencing her. “Humor me for once. Tell me about this elephant in the room.” 

She grabs his wrist, yanking it down away from her face. She strokes her thumb across the back of his hand, giving way to her anxiety. 

Rook sighs, eyes closing tightly. “I’m pregnant,” she squeaks out. 

His lip twitches beneath his beard, something she immediately sees when she opens her eyes back up. 

She feels his muscles go tense, fear evident as he shifts uneasily beneath the blankets. Finally he sucks in a breath, a soft whisper acting as his voice. 

“Is it mine?”

“Yes.” She laughs humorlessly, drawing their foreheads together once more. It makes him flinch. “You’re the only one I’m fucking in this county. Yes, it’s yours.” 

He jerks back, away from her gesture of affection and plants a hand in the center of her heavy breasts. Over her wrath tattoo. The one she willingly let him give her. It was a night shared between them when she hadn’t agreed for him to finish inside her, when she couldn’t say yes to that but when she tried to make it up to him by giving him a different sort of yes. 

“Why did I have to find this out from rumors?”

Her heart jumps. “Rumors?” 

“Yes, darling. Your friends aren’t exactly great at keeping secrets.” He smiles at her and it’s nothing but cruel. “Their little heroine might be out of commission soon, so yes, it’s quite the topic in the Valley. People are so easy to squeeze dry if you know the right methods.” 

“Does anyone else know? Your siblings?”  _ Joseph?  _

He snarls, shoving her back as he stands. He’s buck naked, the same as she, but he paces around his room like he isn’t. 

“Does it fucking matter? The fact is that  _ I  _ should’ve known. It’s my kid, you should’ve told me!” 

She stands carefully, not liking how vulnerable lying down makes her. She keeps the bed between them, not like she wouldn’t be able to take him. She could in a heartbeat. She’s done so before. But she doesn’t want this to turn into angry sex, life’s already too complicated. 

“I didn’t ask for this,” she tells him weakly. “I didn’t tell you because I’m not sure what the fuck we’re going to do. We never spoke of this,” she gestures weakly to her flat stomach. 

“We have,” he corrects her, advancing as he rounds the bed. Jabbing a finger in her direction. “We’ve spoken about kids plenty of time.”

“In the heat of the moment, maybe. But have you really thought about it? When you’re not horny and all you want is to see your cum dripping out of me because of some fucking kink you’ve got?” 

He at least has the decency to blush. Shoulders hiking up as he averts his gaze to the floor. 

“I have thought about it. I want to walk through the gates with you by my side. I want a large family, I always have.” His voice has dropped, but she still senses the rage there. Bubbling and dangerous to match her own. 

“Do you even want a child, Rook? Is that what this is about? Are you looking for a way?” 

She narrows her eyes at him, scoffing and moving around him to gather her clothes. He watches her quietly, hands curled at his sides. He’s waiting for an answer, ragged breaths making it impossible to ignore him. 

“I don’t want to get rid of it.” She struggles with clipping her bra, anger making her fingers shake. John’s lip twists and he makes a sound in the back of his throat, approaching her and grabbing at her shoulder. He spins her around, pushing the clasps together easily. 

She steps away immediately, bending down to grab her panties, not turning back to him until she pulls them on. 

“Do you really think you can be a good father?” 

“Yes.” It’s immediate. And he’s stepping forward again, not stopping until he’s practically on top of her. Chest bumping with hers. “Yes, I do. I will be. For you and this one.” He touches her stomach, smoothing over the skin repeatedly. 

“You’re enjoying this.” 

He rolls his eyes with a huff. “Enjoying what?” 

“Me being trapped, bound to you because we have a kid on the way. You’ve gotten your way.”

He looks like he wants to hit her, to scratch and claw and go back to their angry ways. Back when they were truly enemies and they didn’t have an ounce of sexual relations. 

“I didn’t plan to get you pregnant. You always said no, and I always pulled out. Just...not in time, I guess.” 

She turns on her heel, gathering the rest of her clothes and yanking them on roughly. “Yeah, guess not.”

John takes a shaky breath, falling back on his bed when she makes a beeline for the door. 

“They’ll want for nothing in life. Their childhood will be so different from my own. I promise. I won’t be a bad father. I can’t make the same mistakes as my own dad.” He says it all in a rush, afraid that she’ll leave before she can hear him. “We’ll make great parents.”

She pauses, fingers hovering over the handle. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He’s nodding, over eager, “I don’t doubt that.” 

Rook doesn’t spare him a second glance, scared of what she’ll see. “I need time to think, John. But I’m not getting rid of our child.” She sighs, heavy and drawn out. Scared maybe. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

*****

Rook left the Valley as soon as the sun rose, just to clear her head. She didn’t have any sort of desire to run into anyone, which is why she chose the mountains. Not many people out there to begin with, so it seemed perfect. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Until there’s an arrow embedded deep in her thigh and she’s collapsing on the cool ground. Everything fading to black as her eyelids grow too heavy. 

When she wakes—and it’s not an easy sort of thing—the first thing she notices is that she can’t move. Not in the way that bliss makes it impossible to move, where her limbs feel impossibly heavy or altogether gone, this is different. She wiggles her fingers and toes, cranes her neck around and all she feels is pain. 

Weird, only because she thought Jacob’s arrows were always coated in bliss.

“You waking up, deputy?” 

Rook glances around until she finds the source of the voice. Jacob. Crouching in front of her with a heavy hand on top of hers. It takes her a moment for her brain to catch up, but she realizes that he’s untying her. 

“Not gonna punch me again, are you?”

She blinks at him, dread settling in her stomach as she glances around. “Wha—? I didn’t…”

He just chuckles, watches her as she tries to put a picture together on where she is. It’s not as dark as she expected, not as scary. Completely unlike the last time she was in his presence, tied to a chair and forced to jump through his hoops. This room looks...homey. Worn in. 

There’s a bed in the corner, a desk directly across from it. There’s a door that’s been left ajar, she can just barely make out a toilet. 

“You did hit me,” he gruffs out, not sounding too pleased. “You’re quite the little fighter, huh?”

Rook doesn’t answer, her mind is spinning and lost. She jumps when Jacob snaps his fingers in her face, a frown across his lips. “Are you still with me?”

“Y-yeah.” Normally she wouldn’t stutter. She wouldn't even flinch when met with Jacob. Now though, she can't look him in the eyes. It’s not just her life on the line anymore, is it? She has a kid, she cant throw herself in the line of fire, she can’t afford to piss Jacob off. 

“Good. Took you awhile to wake up, starting to think I used too much.” Jacob grunted lightly as he stood, bending at the waist to undo the ropes binding her other hand. 

“Bliss?” she asks when he steps back, leaning against his desk with arms crossed.

“No,” he dips his head, smiling slightly, “I think John would kill me if I fucked up his kid with bliss.”

“You—his...his kid?”

Jacob chuckles, reaching up to scratch his beard before offering his hand. “Yeah, he’s not so good at keeping secrets. Joseph doesnt know, if it makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t. You’re not exactly a saint.”

She stares at his hand like it’s a personal offense, but once again, scared to piss him off, she takes it. Not for the first time surprised at his strength. 

Jacob shrugs, like he’s heard worse. “No, but I wouldn’t hurt a kid, especially not family. In case you don’t know, you and that kid—” he jabs a finger in her direction, eyes focused on her belly, “are my family now.”

She laughs, stepping back but finding that her legs are weak. Too weak to run if need be. “John and I aren't married.”

“He considers you something more than a fling. He likes ya a lot. So you’re a Seed now, he’ll make it official soon.”

She swallows thickly. “He said that?”

“No. No, but I know my brother.”

Rook shifts, hands falling to wrap around her abdomen. She‘s more than uneasy, eyeing him wearily. “Why’d you bring me here, Jacob?”

Jacob sighs, scrubbing a hand across his face. He rounds his desk, ignoring her question for the moment until he sits down. “To talk.” He spreads his hands, gesturing vaguely. “I wanted to know if you plan on running. If you plan on leaving my baby brother.”

“You wouldn't let that happen.”

Jacob doesn’t disagree with her, which is worrying. “If you tried to leave him John would be the one getting an army together, not me. So if you try something, if you want an out, here I am.”

She stares at this man, the one who almost nearly conditioned her, and tries to hold back tears. “Is this a trick? Some sort of test?” It has to be. No way in hell he’d go back on everything, on wanting her dead, on wanting Eli dead, just because John loves her. She was supposed to be his prized tool. 

He just shakes his head real slow. And it’s starting to seem that he’s serious.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Mostly because she doesn't think she’d be able to start a normal life after knowing what Hope County is like. This is a war zone, she has some mental trauma that will catch up to her some day, and she doesn't have to acknowledge it if she doesn't go back to living her old life. 

And she might have a thing for the man just south of here. 

“I’m staying right here so long as John doesn’t fuck up.”

Jacob snorts, eyes tracking her when she finally sits down in the seat across from him. Falling a little more heavily, wincing at the strange pounding sensation behind her eyes. “What do you count as a fuck up, ‘cause John isn’t perfect. He’s got his share of demons.”

She jerks her head in a nod, she’s more than aware that he has problems, issues she plans on tackling with him. “If he hits our kid…”

“Got it, yeah. I’d kick his ass for ya if he did that, just so we’re clear.” 

“Glad we’re on the same page.” 

They share a sense of mutual agreement, something she never thought would happen between them. 

“You can rest here,” Jacob eventually says, “I can bring up some food—you’ll need lots of it now than you had before, eating for two like you are. You can’t go back to whatever hole you were in, hungry and not taken care of.” 

Rook wants to argue, she also wants to refuse his offer to stay. But food, hot and not stale, an actual meal, sounds delicious. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll stay, just for the food. Then I’m gone.” 

That...doesn’t happen to be the case. She ends up crashing on his bed soon after she’s eaten. She sleeps for hours, waking only when it’s dark out, because of the sound of wolves howling right outside his damn window. 

She finds Jacob immediately where he’s being illuminated by a lamp on his desk. “How do you sleep around here? It’s so noisy.” 

Jacob huffs out a laugh, something close to apprehension settling in when she gets up and grabs her bag. 

“You get used to it.” 

“Hmph.” 

Jacob leans back in his chair, hands curling tighter around his pencil. “You can leave through the front door, my men won’t stop you.” 

“Right.” She’s skeptical the whole walk down to his gates, even after she’s walking down the road away from the Veterans Center she’s waiting for someone to stop her. For a bullet to end her. Jacob’s a calculated man, she wouldn’t put it past him to play the long con. 

Nothing ever comes though. 

She walks all the way back to the Valley without trouble. 

*****

She’s absolutely not sulking. Even if Mary May says otherwise, she is not. She’s an adult, she does not sulk. 

“Give it nine months,” Kim says, which is entirely unhelpful. Nine months without alcohol in this godforsaken county seems impossible.

“I’d rather not have a kid at all.” Which isn’t entirely true, but parts of her are terrified of when she gets bigger. When she can no longer fight with the resistance. 

She wouldn’t have to think of it if she’s drunk, but she won’t do that. She just won’t. 

Her head drops on the bar, cushioned by her folded arms. She watches her friends enjoying themselves as she sits back—and she doesn’t sulk—she does however, jump when her radio goes off. 

“My dear, are you there?” 

The bar is loud, her drunk friends are loud, and they can’t quite make out John’s voice over the din. And no one bats an eye when she rushes outside to answer the call. 

“You left me so abruptly. And then I couldn’t find you for two days! Perhaps tonight you could visit me.” 

“I’m sort of busy, John” she crosses her arms against the chill. Scanning to see if anyone’s nearby. Her friends know she’s pregnant, they suspect it’s a Peggie by the way she talks—some forbidden love—but they don’t know it’s John. The man who’s tortured them for so long. 

“Busy?” He sounds absolutely affronted by the idea. “You shouldn’t be any sort of busy. You shouldn’t even be out there—not alone at least—what if you get hurt?” 

She bows her head, “I’m careful.” 

“No. No you’re not. You’re never careful. Darling, please. I want to see you.”

“You can’t keep calling me and expect me to come running.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Frustrated. “I know, I know, that’s not what I’m…” he sighs, “look, I wanted to apologize. I heard what Jacob did. That he took you for a night.” 

The way he says it makes it seem like Jacob did something bad. Then again, the simple act of stealing her away might be wrong in John’s eyes. 

“Ah. Right. Yeah, that.”

“Yes, that. Did he hurt you?” John’s breath hitches. “Is the baby okay? Should I call a doctor?” 

“John…”

“Yes?” He sounds desperate tonight, loving, more so than she thought capable. He’s no longer angry, which gives her whiplash. 

“What can I do to stop you from calling me every hour?” 

He laughs. “Come see me every hour instead.” 

The idea is...tempting. Before this all kicked off, she might’ve jumped at the chance. Now though, she’s a leader of a movement. Which only adds to what Joseph thinks, that she's drowning in pride. 

She can’t do it. This is all she knows. Killing and destroying. Would it even be possible to make a life? 

“I can’t.” 

She told Jacob she wasn’t leaving—which is true—but that doesn't mean she’ll be living a cozy life with John. 

“You can! You definitely can. I would like that.” 

She winces, clutching the radio tighter until the plastic creaks. She wouldn’t like it, not as much. But she likes John. A lot. 

“A week.”

“What?” She hears his bed squeak under his weight in the background. 

“I’ll stay with you, in your ranch, for a week. I’ll go nowhere else—neither will you. Show me you’re dedicated and I’ll show you that I love you.”

“...oh.” He swallows and it’s deafening, “you said you love me?” She can hear his panic, the nerves in his voice. “You mean that?”

She doesn’t think about it. “Yes.” She can’t think about whether or not that’s true. It’s hard to love a man like John, but she has to try. For their child. “Yes, John, I love you.” 

He laughs, giddy and excited. “Well I’ll be seeing you soon then, my dear. Don’t be late.” 

He cuts off the call before she can say anything else, something snarky like “I’ll be there whenever I want,” but he’s gone. Waiting up for her. And that phrase, the  _ idea,  _ makes them sound like a family. Maybe Jacob’s right. She really is a part of the family. She’s a Seed. 


	82. Pierced pt 2 (NSFW)

“Please tell me you’ve done this before.”

John just laughs, which doesn’t help her anxiety  _ at all _ . And she has half a mind to hit him, but his hands are near a very sensitive place with a very sharp needle and she isn’t looking to bleed over his expensive bed sheets. 

“Trust goes a long way,” he tells her instead. 

Which, yeah, she gets, but he’s only got two piercings himself, and the earring he has doesn’t exactly take a professional to do. 

“I feel like your expertise lies more in tattoos.” 

He looks up at her with a smile, flashing his canines. “I would be more than happy to offer you some ink as well.”

She groans, hips squirming as she feels his gloved hand run up her slit. Her leg kicks out, striking against his shoulder. “Stop that.”

“You like it.” He dips a finger inside her and crooks it up, watching her expression, the tools beside him momentarily forgotten about. “Besides, you still haven’t told me where you want it.”

“I don’t know the first thing about piercings,” she admits lowly. She expects him to poke fun at her, to scoff maybe. Instead he purses his lips and just mutters a soft “huh.” He pulls back, staring at her bare cunt with a tip of his head. “How about I surprise you?” 

It sounds like a terrible idea. Especially when she hasn’t known John all that long. She sighs though, scrubbing a hand through her messy tangle of hair. 

“Go for it.” 

He’s smiling again, leaning forward to press a kiss on her navel. Trailing down with his tongue to swirl around her clit. He sucks her nub into his mouth, moaning around it hungrily. His teeth catch against the sensitive bundle when he pulls away, laughing when she lets out a shaky breath. 

“You won’t regret this.” 

“Better not.” 

He just hums, a hand tight on her hip to keep her down. “Take a breath for me.” She does as instructed, knee jerking up and hitting his sternum at the feeling of a needle piercing through her skin. Too near to her clit for comfort, which makes her panic for a moment, but John threads the curved barbell through and she can’t protest. 

“Ahh, see that wasn’t so bad.” he sigh, sitting up to admire his work. “Perfect.” His gloved hand strokes her hip bone, watching her with a dark gaze as she gets up on her elbows to peer down at what he’s done. 

Oh he pierced her alright, made due with his promise on them matching with sparkly jewelry. 

“It’s a vertical hood bar,” he tells her when she doesn’t say anything. Stretching to take a closer look.

“What a catchy name.” 

He snorts, snapping off the gloves and tossing them somewhere on the floor. He crawls up her body, slotting neatly between her legs to kiss her. He’s not naked—which doesn’t seem fair when she doesn’t have any clothes on. It hadn’t been necessary to strip, but she saw the lust in his eyes when she took off her panties, how his gaze trailed over the rest of her body. 

His hand cups the side of her breast, thumb swiping out to stroke her nipple as he deepens their kiss. Rook pulls back for air, panting between them. 

“I can give you a tattoo as well.” 

She blinks at him, her pussy aching still, and the thought of a new set of needles thrumming into her skin has her whole body shake. 

“Do you have any?” He murmurs, pecking her lips, then her chin, moving down to suck at her neck. 

“No.”

“So that’s why you’re so scared.”

“I never said—“

He holds his finger up to her lips with a knowing smile. “You didn’t have to.” He considers her carefully, hand dropping to massage her bicep, “it’ll be special, something I designed myself just for you.” 

She laughs, slightly hysterical. Hardly believing that she’s here, with this man who is way too hot for her, who is molding her like putty. She wouldn’t doubt that he has someone else, a whole array of men and women who are begging for his attention, and it makes her stomach roll. 

She’s no one important. Just a deputy who met a newcomer in a bakery by pure chance. Though John’s insisted on multiple occasions that it was fate that brought them together. 

“Say yes, Rook. Please, it’ll be worth it.” 

Rook considers it, gnawing at her bottom lip in thought. The grip on her arm grows painfully tight, and she realizes that she doesn’t want to lose John, not yet. 

“Yes. Fine.” 

He laughs, giddy. “I have the perfect thing for you. Don’t worry.” She watches him as he flits across his room, yanking open drawers and pulling stuff out seemingly at random. There’s a method to his madness, she just hasn’t figured it out yet. 

Eventually he sits back down, a metal tray balanced precariously on his lap. Another set of black gloves is produced and promptly put on, he wiggles his fingers, excitement showing as she sits back. 

She watches the slow process of him pulling out ink and setting the gun up until he can flick it on and it steadily buzzes. The noise alone is scary, but his wolfish smile makes it worse. 

The first press of the needle makes her jump, he hadn’t bothered to warn her. He has a heavy hand, pushing down roughly and using tiny little strokes that prolong the pain.

He seems to relish in each reaction he manages to draw from her. 

He hadn’t asked where she wanted it either, just began on her hip, which she was secretly glad for. Easy to hide. Especially if this had been some joke and he isn’t too good at this at all. 

But the tattoo begins to take shape and she realizes how silly she had been to doubt him. It’s a flower—a safe choice—but it’s got a flair to it. Even as black and white as it is. 

“Cute isn’t it?” He asks her eventually. dragging down a rag to wipe away excess ink. 

“It is,” she cranes her neck to see it better, lip twitching into a smile. “Not really your style though.”

He shrugs, “it’s not going on  _ my _ body. It suits you, I believe.” 

Rook hums, a hand dropping down to card through his hair. He reacts immediately, leaning into her touch as she scratches at his head. His eyes go lidded, content like this, when she’s touching him, showing him that he’s worth something. 

Because that’s what she learned about him so far. He tries to hide it, but occasionally something slips through. A peak of something darker going on inside his mind. 

Rook keeps her fingers tangled in his mop of hair, watching him work until the door to his bedroom clicks open and she damn near screams. 

John jerks upright, the gun dangling from his hand before he flicks it off and a snarl rips up past his throat. 

“Jacob, learn to fucking knock.”

It takes her a moment to realize that she’s naked, that they’re lying in a rather compromising position and this stranger is  _ glaring _ at her.

“There was a car in the driveway that I didn’t recognize.” 

“Yeah? And?” John glances back at her and his eyes widen. He stands up fast, and she bets he’s real glad he decided not to follow suit and strip, and grabs a throw blanket at the end of the bed to toss to her. 

“Didn’t know you made any new friends.”

“That’s what Joseph wanted me to do.”

Rook watches them both and comes to the conclusion that this is an old argument. 

“Not like this.” This man—Jacob—looks so disappointed that even she withers away from him. “Joseph doesn’t like it when you fool around.” 

John shrugs, looking away, and she has to wonder why he doesn’t seem as confident in front of Jacob. 

“It’s my life. Let me mess it up, I’m an fucking adult.”

Jacob scoffs, “Barely.”

John’s hands curl into fists by his side. She traces the muscles in his back from what she can see past his shirt and sees how tense he is. 

“Fuck you.” 

Jacob laughs, it’s mean sounding though, nothing friendly about it. “He’s gonna find out and he’s gonna spend the next few months worrying about you when he has enough shit to deal with. So fucking selfish, I swear.”

John looks like he wants to say something, some witty, angry retort, but Jacob turns and walks out. Not quite acknowledging what they had been doing. Which hadn’t been anything close to sex, as much as she expected it to be. 

“That’s my brother,” John explains eventually. He’s still tense. Words clipped. “I don’t…” he pauses, scratches his beard, “I live with my brothers for the moment. I’m trying to get them houses of their own but…”

“Not a lot of empty land in Hope.”

“Exactly.” 

She shifts, glancing down at the tattoo before a smile graces her face. She wears that mask when John turns around, trying to be strong for him. 

“It’s pretty,” she tells him when he just stares. 

He nods, making his way back to bed. Crawling up next to her. “It’s done. Here, let me wrap it up.” 

She sits still as he tightens cling wrap around her skin. His touch is rough and heavy. Anger showing through. It’s awkward now and she hates that. She despises how upset he looks. She’s so used to see him teasing, to watch him take control of a situation. 

“What was his problem?” 

John chuckles, gaze darkening. He doesn’t answer her until he’s lying down beside her, his head on her chest. His beard scratches her breast, makes her body react out of muscle memory. 

“I don’t know. I think it’s the age difference. Him and Joseph—my other brother—are closer. Jacob’s softer with him, he chooses his words carefully around Joseph. He’s mean to me.”

Rook doesn’t know what to say to that, so she keeps quiet. She lays a kiss to the crown of his head, wrangling him closer. “He’s mean because he loves you. Maybe he’s just worried.”

She feels John frown, his hand comes up to cup her breast, squeezing it gently as a distraction. He’s thinking, a cute crease forming between his brows. “He’s worried l’ll fuck up Joseph’s plans. His dreams for a better world. Jacob wants us all to be happy, that’s what he said, he told me sometimes we need to make sacrifices for those we love.” John squeezes her breast a little too hard, making her flinch back. 

He apologizes with a kiss to her nipple, sucking it into his mouth briefly. 

“I used to live in Atlanta, did I ever tell you that?”

“No, you haven’t told me anything about you.” 

He ignores her barb and keeps going. “Well, I lived there my whole life until Joseph asked Jacob and I to pack up and come to Montana.”

“That’s quite the journey.”

“Yes. It was. I feel like that was sacrifice enough. But now Joseph is worried about who I’m spending time with, worried I’ll start doing drugs again or that I’ll fuck the whole county.” 

Rook snorts laughter at that. A hand coming up to cup the back of his neck. She can confirm that he isn’t exactly clean. There’s been once or twice after they fucked that he’ll roll up a blunt and always offer her a toke. 

They’ve shared the bottle of beer, too, but gets it. She understands why family would be so concerned, but that’s not her place to comment on that. Instead she chuckles. “Yeah? And are you fucking anyone else.” 

He smiles, gazing up at her. “Not yet.” 

“Does that make me special?” She wants it to. She isn’t like John, she doesn’t meet men where she probably shouldn’t and let them take her home. She doesn’t suck them off or let them fuck her. She certainly doesn’t let them give her a piercing and tattoo on the same day. 

John’s eyes go a little misty. He gets quiet and thoughtful, head dropping back to her chest. 

“I think it might.”


	83. Freezing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook and John stuck in a cabin together

John is glaring at her like that alone will kill her. She isn’t engaging, isn’t acknowledging him because that would only make his mood worse. Which didn’t seem possible at first because John not only threw a tantrum at being soaked from the sudden downpour they were caught in, but also because his radio was ruined from the water and now he’s got no way out. 

“Did you find any food?” She ventures from her position beside the window. Once again not looking. Merely inquiring with a tilt of her head. 

“Nothing. This place was turned over long before we got here.” She hears him shift, listens to the wet squelch of him taking off his shoes and peeling away his socks. “But I don’t plan on staying here that long, deputy.” 

She raises her eyebrows and worries her lip between her teeth. He isn’t looking outside like she is, isn’t seeing the raging winds that are threatening to push trees to the ground. She knows he hears the thunder though, and that alone would usually scare someone from venturing outside. 

“It’s bad out there.”

“Yes,” he agrees, standing up and shaking his hands out. Wincing when water drips from his fingers. “I don’t mind braving the weather. I’m not staying here with you.” 

She huffs out a sigh and leaves her perch by the window when a bang of thunder rattles the glass and sends rock shards flying. She pointedly looks at him, as if trying to reason with him. He tracks her movement as she walks, hands clenched by his sides as she makes her way across the floor to poke at the empty fireplace. 

There’s a stack of firewood by the side of it and she’s got matches in her bag. She’ll survive the night whether or not John stays. 

“If you want to leave, Seed, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” She crouches down and jams two pieces of wood inside the fireplace, stacking them on one another. She glances over her shoulder as she shakes her waterlogged bag off her shoulder. “This isn’t your territory, do you even know where you are?” 

John scoffs, and really she didn’t mean for that to be rude, but that’s how he takes it. Because he’s John and of course everyone’s out to get him. Which, okay, that may be true. He’s done a lot of bad shit. Shit he’s yet to pay for.

“What are you doing in the Henbane, anyway, John?” 

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His clothes cling to his body tight in a way she knows must be uncomfortable considering that his outfit is already very, very form fitting. With jeans that already hug the curve of his ass and his button up usually shows off the slight trim of his waist. 

“I’ve got a sister, deputy. We hang out.” He shrugs, brushing his hair away from his face, trying to slick it back like it once was. “We’re siblings, after all.”

She hums, hands finally finding her pack of matches. She pulls them out with a soft smile and he catches her gaze. 

He’s considering getting closer as she stokes the flames, letting the wood catch and allowing the fire to rise. He’s cold the same as she is, but she won’t ask him if he wants to join her. He’s hardly being nice. 

Rook stands and looks down the length of her body. Her uniform is soaked, coloring the fabric a darker green than she’s used to. Which  _ sucks,  _ getting her hands on extra clothes has been difficult only because she’s spending most of her money on guns. She hasn’t changed since she got to Hope and honestly she’s surprised no ones mentioned it by now. 

Especially John. With his designer jacket and custom belt buckle. 

Right now she loathes him for that, even if his outfit is wet too, he’s got something to go back to after this storm ends. Something dry and warm. 

She purses her lips and absolutely notices how John sways forward with want for heat. “Did you find clothes? Blankets, maybe?” She rubs her palms together, raising an eyebrow when he rolls his eyes. 

“I said I didn’t find—“

“Food. I didn’t ask about clothes.” 

He shrugs, fingers dropping to yank at the buttons on his vest. “I don’t know then. I wasn’t looking for those things.” 

“You could’ve,” she snaps, taking the time to push her own boots off. 

“What were you doing then while my head was buried in the cupboards?” His face changes so quickly, he never ceases to surprise her how suddenly he can turn from civil to angry. 

She raises her chin, taking a step forward and nearly missing the way his hand drops to his side. “Securing the cabin. Making sure the storm won’t bring this place down and kill us.” 

John snorts but stays quiet. He isn’t moving, eyes darting everywhere but refusing to settle. Which leaves her to be the one to keep them from freezing. 

She stalks off and seethes when she hears him pad over to the fire and sit in front of it. She slams doors and bangs drawers while searching. Pausing now and again to listen for John. He gives away nothing. Silent like a cat. Which is concerning, but she’s busy so she doesn’t give it much thought. 

She finds a stack of blankets in a closet, shoved behind plastic shopping bags devoid of anything and empty canned goods. They’re scratchy and thin, but it’s better than nothing. A dresser pushed against the wall yields nothing, but the bedroom across the hall has clothes scattered around on the floor. Rook doesn’t even look, just bends down and grabs an armful where she dumps them unceremoniously at John’s feet. 

“Pick your poison, Seed,” she declares, her voice loud and happy if only to piss him off. Except he doesn’t respond. He’s...not answering. 

“John?” 

Rook pokes at him with her socked foot, right between his ribs and he nearly topples over. He actually would have if she didn’t drop down to his level to grab his shoulder. 

He’s freezing, body racked with tremors that make her fingers tingle. His eyes are closed, lips slightly parted and it’s a miracle that he’s breathing. But he’s not responding. 

_ Fuck.  _

She eases him back to lie down, keeping him as near to the fire as she dares. She hovers over his body, hands inches away and unsure where to touch. She slaps his cheek a couple of times, maybe a little too hard, and gets nothing. Not even a groan, not a fluttering of his eyes. 

Her hand flicks down to his shirt in an instant, jerking at his half undone vest before she moves onto his shirt. She tugs open buttons and ignores the swell of curiosity that rises when she sees scars and carvings of sin that she shouldn’t. It’s a peek into his life, just a tad, and it makes something vile crawl up into her throat. He’s been hurt and abused and she  _ hates  _ that she feels bad. She shouldn’t, she shouldn’t give a damn or carefully trace over that sloth scar over his chest. 

But she does. Just for a moment she allows a wave of pity to pass through her because right now he can’t push her away. 

Rook pulls his shirt off, bending his arms cautiously and placing them back over his heart when she’s done. When her hands touch his belt and tugs, he grunts, fingers twitching. 

“You’re not dead.” It’s the first thing she says—stupid too—and it makes John laugh. It’s weak and wobbly though. “I thought…”

“M’fine, deputy. Didn’t...didn’t realize t-that you were suc’ a bleedin’ h-heart.” 

Her eyes crinkle with worry and she gets back to work. Yanks at his belt until it pops free and he mutters something she doesn’t catch when he almost rolls into the fire. 

His hand stretches out towards the flames. Fingertips wiggling as he pants out labored breaths. He doesn’t fight her though, either too weak or too aware of his predicament. 

“I’m gonna take your pants off, okay? I won’t...I’ll be careful. I just need to get these off of you.” She pauses, swallowing loudly before she continues. “I found something for us to wear.” 

He doesn’t respond, eyes closed once more, hand lying flat on the floor, and she feels that familiar swell of panic that she’s never associated with one of the Seeds. Not John, even if she feels the most sorry for him out of all of his siblings. 

She feels for him. She really does. 

The scars she reveals when his jeans come off doesn’t help either. A sound gets caught in her throat. Something between a scream and gasp. His legs are the worst.

He’s like a map of abuse and suffering. And he’s dying a cold, slow death with someone who is tearing his life work apart. 

“You’re going to be fine,” she tells him even if he can’t hear. It soothes her to some extent. 

Rook leaves his boxers on, kind of wants to preserve some shred of modesty when he’s knocked out. She’s seen too much already. Even if he’s come to terms with his past and is willing to tell the whole county, even have his brother write a book about it.

It doesn’t feel right. 

Her hands grab at his shoulders and she pulls him up into her chest. Let’s him lean his weight against hers, his head on the crook of her neck as he breathes gentle, barely there puffs on her skin. She wades through the clothes and chooses a baggy grey shirt that looks like it could fit just about anyone. 

It’s hard, dressing him while he’s limp and feeling so, so cold. She gets it eventually though. With a sigh she gets the material over his head and—and for now she has to ignore how her hands slide over more scarred skin. 

She gets the shirt the rest of the way over his head, struggling only for a brief moment to pull his arms through. She lays him back down, careful not to bang his head, and begins the search for pants. 

Her pile is small, but there’s some old looking sweatpants that have a tie at the front—and they fit him well enough. 

Rook stares at him for a long time. Watching the easy rise and fall of his chest, the occasional twitch of his fingers before he settles once more. Only when the color returns to his cheeks does she get changed.

She toys with the idea of moving him to the couch but ultimately decides against it. He needs the fire. Instead she curls up beside him, a palm flat over his heart just to feel its thrumming rhythm. 

She doesn’t sleep, the raging winds keeping her more than awake throughout the night. Even then, when light starts to peek through the clouds, the storm continues. And John is still sleeping. 

Rook idly wonders if he’s in a coma and what that would mean for Hope County, but then he wakes with a stuttering gasp that has her falling away from him. 

John shouldn’t have the energy to glare and yet he somehow pulls it off. He rises up on his elbows, a groan falling from his lips as he pushes a finger to his temple. 

“Deputy,” he murmurs when she just stares at him, trying to calm her breathing. To tell herself that he’s fine. “Is the storm over?” 

She laughs and even to her own ears it sounds unsure. He doesn’t know why her eyes grow slightly wet. He probably thinks she’s lost it. If she was one of his Peggies she might ask for an impromptu confession. Just to tell him that she’s spent late nights talking to no one but herself. Praying for guidance and help. Coming to the conclusion that she just might spare him and his family. That no one in the resistance even cared to ask her what she wants to do with the Seeds. Everyone assumes she’ll kill them—that she must. 

She doesn’t want to. Never liked the killing. Wrath isn’t her sin despite what John claimed in their last encounters as they glared at each other through stained plexiglass. 

“Deputy.” He jabs his finger into her side to catch her attention. “The storm?”

She nods, standing a little too quickly. “The worst of its past. But it’s not over.” 

He hums but stands with her. His movements are stiff as he forces his legs forward, towards the window. It’s a blessing it didn’t break during the night. 

John tugs at the shirt she put him in and blessedly doesn’t question it. “I think I’ll take my leave now.” He watches her curiously as he gathers his own clothes, maybe waiting for a reaction. She doesn’t give him one, she can’t. 

“Thank you for not murdering me in my sleep, deputy.” 

The corners of her lips tip up ever so slightly, “of course.” She extends her hand, hoping and hoping until—

He takes it. Slots his hand in her own and she feels the warmth that radiates from him. He’s alive. He’ll see another day. John squeezes her hand and she realizes that she’s been holding on too long.   


“Maybe I’ll confess soon,” she tells him, and really it’s only a matter of time. And John must know that too because that gets a real smile out of him.

Then he’s clearing his throat and nodding down to their intertwined fingers. 

She lets go. Lets John leave. Sits by the fire that has long since died. Turns off her radio. And falls asleep  _ hating _ who she is and what side she’s on. 


	84. Hidden Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone believes Rook is an alpha, but when her suppressants run out and she's captured by John he is horrified to find out that she’s an omega

“You smell different, deputy.”

John has never been more infuriating than he is right now. Walking through those impenetrable metal doors with his dress shoes click clacking and smiling so fucking wide. 

If she wasn’t tied up she would tear his throat out. The growl that rumbles up from her chest tells him that. Makes him stop halfway across the room to stare. 

“Oh, don’t be so angry. It’s not  _ bad _ different,” he laughs, loud and bright and annoying, “or even a bad smell. Quite the contrary.” He walks forward and places a toolbox down on the bench to her left, turning on her like a predator. “I’m just not used to it is all, what with your need to use suppressants.”

He’s got this little half smile going on, looking cocky and sure. 

“I ran out,” she spits. 

“Ah.” He hangs his head in thought, lips pursing before he gets closer. 

She grits her teeth and turns her head away. Tries to ignore how his scent hasn’t been obscured by the drugs she’s relied on for so long. 

“Stop,” she says breathlessly. Close to panting because he smells  _ amazing.  _ He’s pushing his scent too, doing this on purpose. 

He doesn’t say anything until he’s knelt down in front of her, a hand cupping her cheek and making her gasp with the contact. “I needed to get closer. Those...drugs, you insisted on using for years makes it hard to smell you properly.” He grimaces, “can’t even scent you.” 

It takes a minute for it to click, for everything to settle into place and for her to realize that this is bad. He’s going to smell her, to dig past the chemicals that are still in her system to find out  _ what _ she is. 

John carefully presses his nose into the crook of her neck, nuzzling her skin sweetly before he finds her scent gland and breathes in. His whole body shudders and he chokes. 

“Oh.” He takes it in again, as if he hadn’t done it properly the first time. “You haven’t been entirely forthcoming, have you?” 

“John…”

He yanks back, pupils blown wide as he pushes his scent her way again and makes her strain against the ropes holding her in place. The bastard knows what he’s doing, that it’d be so easy to throw her into a heat. 

“You’re an omega.” He stares at her, mouth opening in shock. “You...the whole county thought otherwise. My siblings and I thought otherwise.”

“I didn’t lie,” she snaps past the haze in her mind, “those were rumors.”

“Rumors you didn’t deny.” He stands with a flourish and looks down on her. “But why would someone deny being an alpha? There’s a certain respect that comes from that title, a willingness from others to follow you.” 

“Wouldn’t you know?” 

It’s meant to be a jab, but John only gives a tight smile.

“Yes, I would. Because I actually am an alpha. You can smell that though, can’t you?”

She bobs her head in a nod, teeth clenched together so hard that her jaw begins to ache. She feels the sweat beginning to form on her face, the way the muscles in her legs tense. 

Rook’s suddenly deathly afraid of what John will do to her. Her instincts are going haywire, her nose sensitive and body responsive. He could do whatever he wanted and she wouldn’t be able to fight. 

John takes a step back and his nose scrunches up. “Calm down,” he tells her, and it takes her a second to remember that she can’t exactly hide her scent anymore. Her fear must’ve shown through. “I’m more concerned with other things than taking you.”

“That’s surprising for an alpha.” 

He hums softly and pulls up a chair. Sliding in close to her with his head propped up on his hands. 

“Those that forced you onto the front lines should be ashamed of themselves,” he starts softly, reaching over to the metal table to her left to pick up a sponge soaked in water. “Call me old fashioned but I don’t believe omegas should be out there fighting wars.”

And that’s the wrong thing to say. She’s dealt with this shit before, heard those words slightly twisted on its head in the past, back when she told her family she wanted to be a deputy. Her parents were supportive but hesitant—that she could deal with—but her aunts and uncles? Her grandparents? Oh they tried to urge her away from it. 

Not to mention the application she had to fill out. The mandatory line that asked if you were an alpha, beta or omega. The judgement that would come from her answer.

“Omegas,” he pushes the sponge to her neck and wipes down. Gets rid of weeks worth of dirt, “should be at home rearing pups. Cooking meals and indulging in their hobbies. Living a cozy lifestyle, not a violent one.” 

“I don’t have pups, I don't have a mate, so where does that leave me? Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life just looking for willing suitors?” 

John makes a noise in the back of his throat, a choked off sigh that reverberates in his chest. Eventually he shrugs, quiet as he works at scrubbing her clean. 

“Let me take care of you before you go out there again,” he says. He stops his ministrations and stares at her, eyes wide and pleading. 

“Why?” There’s always a catch. There has to be. 

But he seems to struggle with an answer for just a little while. “Because I’m an alpha and you’re an omega—“

“And you can’t control your instincts? You have to take care of an unmated omega?”

To her surprise he nods. “Yes, if you want the truth. It’s exactly that.” 

In the end she doesn’t get much of a choice. He leads her to one of the many cells in his bunker—she doesn’t have any roommates—and locks her in with the promise that he’ll be back soon. 

Soon turns out to be not even 30 minutes later. He’s got a bundle in his arms, lip bitten between his teeth in concentration as a Peggie steps forward to unlock the cage and allows their herald to enter. 

“Care package,” he says in way of explanation when she just stares at him from the other side of the room. A small room at that. “To make your stay more comfortable.”

“I’m not staying here forever.” 

He tuts, placing the pile down on the bed. “You act like you’d be able to leave.” He sighs heavily, “but no, I don’t intend to keep you, even if that’s what should happen. I’ll have to talk about this with the rest of my family—“

“No!” She races forward, grabs his shoulders and shoves him hard enough to knock him down onto the bed. To her left she hears a gun cocking and sees John’s eyes slide away behind her. He holds up his hand, keeps them from killing her right then. “You can’t. The whole county will know.”

“And? If those people you call friends can’t give you respect just because you’re an omega…”

“That’s not the point. It’s  _ your _ people I’m worried about. Probably just as single minded as you are.”

He shrugs, getting up on his elbows to stare at her. He looks so relaxed. Legs spread and body half propped up. 

“You don’t have to tell them.” She kneels down, hand grasping his shirt to drag him until he’s sitting. “No one has to know besides us.” 

Her nose twitches and she  _ smells him _ . It’s sweet, a nice twinge to her senses that makes her draw in closer than she should.

“I don’t keep secrets from my family. I’ll let you leave if that’s what we decide on, deputy, but I sincerely doubt they’ll believe you should be a soldier.” John stands quickly, stepping over her and making his way out. “There’s food and water there, some blankets—it gets cold here at night.”

Her eyes narrow at his words, but he’s gone before she can confront him. He expects her to nest. He thinks she’ll have a heat when she’s with him. Which is entirely possible. It’s not unheard of to be thrown into a heat after being taken off of suppressants so suddenly, especially when all you can smell is unmated alphas around you. 

Because apparently the people in John’s bunker are crazy loyal and really don’t fuck. They smell clean.

She resists for as long as she can. Everytime John stops by, every day, she revels in the look of disappointment that adorns his face when he sees the blankets left in the corner. 

The constant stream of food and water is nice though. She can’t complain too much. Except she’ll find just about anything to bitch about, and John’s need to stand so close when he visits her, that’s something that gets under her skin. 

She wakes up one day—the day after John ghosted a hand over her scent gland and murmured something she couldn’t hear—and she feels like she’s coming apart at the seams. 

For the first time since she’s been here, Rook cries. It’s loud and keening, an angry sort of wounded noise that she can’t hold back. She tries to quiet herself down, knows that there are guards standing outside her cell at all times.

Apparently though she isn’t quiet enough. 

“Christ, I thought I had more time. Fuck, okay, it’s okay omega.”

John. She doesn’t need him right now, can’t possibly deal with him. A growl rises from her chest, makes him stop dead in his tracks.

“Leave, John.” 

He doesn’t do that at all. He does, however, stay right where he is. “I won’t hurt you. Or force you, I’m not here to be your mate.” He swallows and holds out his hands. “Just, here, this’ll make it easier.” Now she realizes that he’s holding something, a box. “Maybe not easier, but somewhat bearable. I know how hard it is, how long you’ve experienced a proper heat.” 

Her teeth clamp down on the pillow beneath when he takes a step forward. “Shut up, John.”

“Yeah, okay, okay. Here. I’ll go now. If you need anything you ask for me.”

He tosses the box to her and she hears the clatter of something rolling around inside. She doesn’t check it until John is long gone though, until the heat coiling I’m her body is too much to bear. 

She blindly reaches over the edge of bed. Her fingers catch on the box and she drags it towards her. Without thought she pushes her hand inside to grab at what’s inside and she hits rubber. Lumpy, textured rubber that is long and shapely with a huge base. 

Oh dear lord in heaven. 

He gave her a box of dildos. 

Rook wants to yell out for him, to push the box back into his hands and watch him leave with his tail tucked between his legs. But not only does the thought of seeing him again—smelling him—make her toes curl, but if she doesn’t get something inside her soon she’s going to go crazy. She’ll probably start saying some dumb shit to the guards outside, asking them to fuck her as she gets lost in her heat. 

With an annoyed groan she struggles out of her jeans, kicking them off the bed and looping her fingers in her panties. 

She takes a hold of the first toy she touched, a cock that’s got a faux knot at the bottom. There isn’t any lube in the box and she barks out a cold laugh. She’s got enough slick to take just about anything right now. They both know that. It’s already staining the sheets below her.

Rook squirms out of the blankets, sweat dotting her skin already. And that’s a detail she forgot about. The heat that overwhelms and steals the breath from your lungs. It makes her tug off her shirt and bra, eyes straying to the cell door belatedly. The door isn’t in direct view, but if someone just tilted their head—

She huffs. Can’t think about that. Not now. Not when she feels like she’s going to die. 

She rises up on her knees, sinking into the thin mattress slightly as she does so. The large head slips past her folds, bumping against her entrance teasingly. It sends a shiver through her spine, has her arching up before she snarls and shoves her hips down. 

It takes a little bit of force, but eventually the head pops inside. Her eyes go wide and a whimper slips free from her lips. She fights the urge to nip at her tongue, to draw blood and distract, to in the very least, muffle the noises she’s bound to make. But there’s a haze that settles deep in her mind. A fog that makes everything fade into the background. 

There’s a dull, satisfying ache deep inside her at the stretch of the toy. She’s never had something this big, foolishly afraid that it’d get stuck. Now though she realizes that she should’ve been more worried about getting it inside. 

Her knees tremble as she slides down further, taking too much too fast and earning a sharp pain from the action. She yelps, a full blown omega yelp that would send an alpha running. She waits, wonders if John will come, and immediately hates herself for the following disappointment when no one appears. 

The shaft is fully inside her cunt, coated in her slick. It’ll make the draw back easier when she decides to ride the thing. 

Rook’s hands drop to her thighs, nails digging in as she tries to conjure up some mental image. Some nameless face or past fuck who treated her well. Someone to make cumming easier because John didn’t exactly hand over his phone so she could browse some porn. 

She toys with the idea of asking him, calling out for him just to watch the surprise on his face. Or maybe he wouldn’t be able to answer because he’d be so shell shocked in how much she’s taking. 

Fuck. Now she’s thinking of John. John with his narrow hips and tattooed hands. With the earring he’s got that she’d tug at with sharp teeth. She’d do just about anything right now to figure out what he looks like beneath those fancy clothes. 

Now _ that _ gets her. Her own porno playing out before closed eyes drives her forward. She rolls her hips again and again. Shakes and trembles at the spike of heat in her belly. The bed begins to creak as she moves faster, leaving the tip inside to tease before she slams back down. It stretches her further, opens her wide as more slick pours from her sopping cunt. Gets her ready for the knot. 

It’s naturally larger than what’s normal, the whole dildo is, and it hurts when her entrance brushes around the knot. 

She would like to imagine John having cameras in this room—the other cells must—would he touch himself? Indulge in sin by holding his cock and jerking himself off? Letting his knot swell and catch around nothing? 

Rook hisses as her body resists the fake knot, stretching her further than she’s ever been stretched. It feels like it’ll rip her apart. She doesn’t touch herself yet, keeps her hands to herself because she wants to come once it’s all inside. 

She bounces up and down faster, almost topples onto the floor. She grinds down, shakes her hips and feels the knot slip inside an inch further. She mewls, fingers finally going down to find her clit. She starts a fast pace, doesn’t care for being gentle or slow. Or quiet for that matter. 

She cums like that, shaking and gasping until her pussy is oversensitive. 

“I didn’t think you’d be able to take it.”

John is staring at her slack jawed, pupils blown and stance a touch too wide. His hand is across his crotch, ghosting over his jeans as an afterthought. 

“What’re you…” she swallows, painfully aware of how naked she is. She can’t for the life of her though cover up. Some small part of her brain says that this is right, that she needs to show off to her potential mate. 

“You smelled so good,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t really hear you, but I,” now he looks away, slightly embarrassed, “I put you right next to where I sleep. And I could smell you so clearly.” 

He breathes out a shaky sigh, taking quick steps forward, continuing when she doesn’t stop him. 

“You’re a temptation, and this,” he gestures down to his hardened erection, “this is my sin. To lay with you would be a sin because we aren’t mates.”

She leans forward slightly, eyes struggling to stay open as the toy jostles inside her. “But?” 

“But I can fix that.” He’s at the edge of the bed, a hand coming up to hook under her chin. “If you let me.” 

There’s a wave of his scent that he pushes towards her again and again until she’s drowning in it. It’s manipulation at its finest. She can’t resist though, she leans into him, straining to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. 

“Well?” She hears him undo his buckle and pull down his zip. 

“Yes.”

He  _ groans _ . Head tipping down to kiss her. It’s chaste, a promise of what’s to come. That he’ll treat her right. 

Rook yanks at his clothing, shakes as the dildo pushes outside of her. She forces him onto his back as she undresses him. All claws and growls. He lifts his hips to help her, laughs at her eagerness when her fingers catch on the buttons of his vest. 

He’s inside her before she realizes what’s happening. She’s presenting for him, ass up in the air with her face pressed into the pillows. He’s got a firm grip on her hips, rocking her back and forth as he thrusts forward. Jams in so deep that it leaves her seeing stars. 

“How do you feel about me making you mine, hm, Rook? Would you like that?” 

She can’t talk, all words lost in the throes of her heat. He chuckles and the noise makes her clench around his cock. 

“Maybe a pup or two will keep you off the battlefield.” He bears down on her, folds in half to cover her body with his own. He nuzzles into her skin, lays kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. 

Right where he stops at her scent gland. 

There’s a moment of hesitation on his part. His hips slow down into gentle rolls even as she jerks back and tries to get him to speed up. 

“Can I?” He asks. “I’ll be so good to you. Please.”

She whimpers, her scent pushing outwards around them. Letting everyone know what’s going on, that she’s with an alpha, that she’s  _ fucking,  _ and that she’s so close. 

“Rook?”

Later she’ll blame it on her heat. Say that she wasn’t thinking straight. She’ll spend sleepless nights telling herself that while she’s content next to John. 

“Yes.” 

He mumbles out soft “thank yous,” over and over again until he stops short and sinks his teeth into soft skin. He breaks the surface and draws blood that he’s quick to lap up. It’s a mark that won’t fade, one that will tell everyone who she belongs to. Her scent will do the same though, she’s going to reek of him, and she can’t find it in her to care. 

“Now cum for me,” he tells her, setting his rough pace once more. Fists digging into the blankets beside her head as he finds leverage. 

She does as he asks almost immediately, it’s the snarl he put into his words that makes her tip over the edge. The commanding tone that has her shaking until she’s yelling out at the sensitivity.

He’s close behind her, giving a last couple of thrusts before he’s spilling inside her pussy. Coating her walls with his seed. Forcing it deep inside her just as his knot catches on her entrance and stays there.

The pressure of it makes her whine, the sheer stretch so wide giving her a throbbing ache. And she realizes that it’s so much better than some toy. 

“C’mere.” He rolls off to the side, tips them over to wait out his knot. He draws nonsensical patterns on her shoulder, pressing the occasional kiss there. 

He starts humming around the same time sleep grabs hold of her and she can’t keep her eyes open. She doesn’t want to think of how safe she feels wrapped in his arms, or how drastically he just changed her life. He’s right though, she wouldn’t do a thing with a mate in her life. She wouldn’t dare risk the life of her pup either. 

He’s a bastard. A conniving snake. But he’s her alpha now, and really that has a very nice ring to it, huh? 


	85. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook is a single mother recently moved to Hope County. It seems like a perfect fit until a certain someone starts to spread rumors that John is the father to her son

Moving to Hope County feels wrong somehow, she’s leaving behind family. Yanking up roots that have been planted for generations. She knows she won’t be able to make Christmas and Thanksgiving, and Fourth of July certainly won’t feel the same. She misses them already, her parents, her aunts and uncles, all her cousins and her new niece, and it’s only been a week. 

But moving was always in the plans, she didn’t want to get trapped like the rest of her family. She wants to start her legacy someplace new. That, and her therapist recommended a change in scenery—it would help the PTSD—though Rook somehow doubts Dr. Lucario meant moving house. Then again living in the same city as the man who attacked her, even if he’s in jail, makes her feel nauseous. 

Hudson would disagree with her on that one, tells her so nearly every day. Like today. When they’re taking a late night shift together and sitting in their cruiser eating quesadillas from the shitty fake Mexican place down the road. 

“Jus’ saying Rook,” Joey mumbles around a mouthful, “nothing beats the traditions us locals have around here. We’re like one big happy family, you’ll see.”

Rook hums, eyes scanning the dark road. Night shift is always boring and she feels herself grow restless, but she has a child to go home to and she’s not exactly looking for any unjust excitement. 

“Isn’t Oliver’s birthday coming up?”

At Hudson’s words, Rook smiles, “it is. He’s turning two next month.”

Joey grabs her upper arm and squeezes tight, practically bouncing in her seat. “Well there we go! Let’s celebrate that! The whole Valley can make it.”

“Oh yeah?” Rook laughs and shakes her off, “I didn’t realize you spoke for everyone that lives here.”

Hudson snorts, “they’ll come.”

“I don’t know everyone in the Valley.” She can count on one hand how many people she actually considers her friend around here so far. “A small party is just fine.” 

“Fine, suit yourself.” 

It sounds like the matter has been dropped, but Rook knows better. She knows Joey  _ so _ much better than that. Rook has a feeling there’s going to be way too many at her son’s birthday come June. 

Rook leans over to fiddle with the radio, trying to find some music, the last few months the stations have been screwy. And tonight is no different. She scrolls past a rock channel and some choir song she doesn’t recognize; and that’s around the time a car speeds past them going 90.

“Holy fucking—put your seatbelt on, rookie.” 

Rook barely has time to reach over her shoulder and click the belt into place before they’re tearing off with the sirens blaring. Shooting off after the black SUV—which she’d never even guess would be able to go as fast as it is. 

It’d be impressive to watch if she wasn’t a cop. 

She hears Joey curse beside her, hands gripping the wheel tighter. “Is it me or are they not slowing down?”

Rook squints and leans forward. “Huh, no I think you’re right.” She shakes her head slowly, “you’ve lived here longer than I have, Joey, but I can’t think of anyone who’d start a police chase.”

Joey lets out a bark of laughter, “god I hope it isn’t Nick and Kim on their way to the hospital. I don’t think we’ll ever get in their good graces again if we interrupted the birth of their first born.”

Rook can’t help it, she laughs at the thought. “It better not be, they’re watching Oliver tonight.” And when Joey just huffs, she adds “they’d forgive us.”

“You’re new. They’d forgive you.”

Rook hums and peers out the window. Past the rolling fields of Holland Valley. She doesn’t know the area well but there’s only one clinic in the county and she’d be stupid to not know where it is. That looks to be where they’re headed. 

“You know where that car’s going, Joey?”

“Shut up,” she mutters through clenched teeth. And with a flick of her wrist she snaps the sirens off. “We’ll just follow them, make sure everything’s alright.” 

The knot in Rook’s stomach eases, high speed chases are scary she suddenly realizes as the adrenaline begins to take its toll. Though, when they pull to a stop in the clinic parking lot, she realizes not as scary as who steps out of the car. 

“Oh, that’s a lot of blood.” Joey breathes, already climbing out to help. Rook goes to do the same but she isn’t too sure she can do much. She feels she’d just get in the way. It’s when the passenger side door opens and another man gets out, looking like he’s on the verge of tears, that she knows where she’s needed. 

“Sir?” She ventures as she walks towards him, a hand outstretched, “are you okay?”

It takes a moment for him to steady his gaze on her. He looks absolutely distraught, pain and fear all mixed into one. She does a sweep of his body and notes the blood on his high collared white button up. “Is that blood yours?”

He shakes his head, a hand coming up—bruised and cut knuckles—rubbing his neck right where his short beard starts. 

“No.” He whispers faintly. He turns his head to glance at where Joey is speaking to his bloodied companion. “It’s my brother’s.”

Rook nods and steps closer, sees the rosary held in his hand and winces. Notes the way he’s dressed, smart but not formal, and the Bible tucked in the door’s shelf in the car. Dear god please did they just chase a preacher—almost arrest a preacher and his brother? 

She hopes not. God wouldn’t appreciate that, she feels like. 

“Your brother’s hurt then? But he was driving?” She gives a wry grin, trying humor where it falls flat when he fixes her with a dead stare. 

He makes a pained noise in the back of his throat, cringing when his brother’s voice raises an octave. He’s arguing with Joey. Words a little too slurred for Rook to make out. 

“I found him in his home...under the influence.”

“Alcohol?” She guessed. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Maybe a little. I think it was the cocaine mostly though.” The man in front of her cracks a little bit more, shoulders tucking into himself as he stifles a cry into his cupped palm. “The blood is from his coffee table, he wasn’t in his right mind and he climbed on top of it. Fell and smashed right through it, cut his hand and arm. I went to help and,” he holds up his cut knuckles, “well, that didn’t work out.” 

“Nothing fatal, that goes for both of you.” She soothes, stepping in closer to hold onto his bicep. She rubs circles into his skin past the thin fabric of his shirt. Turning him away from his brother as Joey finally guides him into the clinic. 

“I know. I just—“ he swallows down a cry and meets her eyes. “He insisted on driving and I couldn’t  _ not _ go with him. He was going so fast and I wasn’t sure—I didn’t know if we’d survive the trip. And then when I saw the flashing lights…” he closes his eyes then, tears finally slipping free. 

“C’mere, let's sit down, okay? There’s a jacket in the cruiser, I can get you out of those clothes.” She guides him with a hand still on his upper arm. She isn’t used to men being so raw. So willing to bare their soul to her. It’s jarring but not unwelcome. 

“I’m Rook, by the way.” 

“Joseph.” He offers with a shaky smile. Standing off to the side as Rook opens up the door and pulls out a Hope County officer’s coat. “And my brother is John.” He goes to sit when she motions for him to, some semblance of privacy for him to shed his shirt. 

Rook steps back and looks away, doesn’t want to seem like she’s trying to get a free show as his chest is suddenly bared. 

She glances at his face for a moment though, notes the crows feet around his eyes and hazards to ask “is he younger?”

“Yes. Yes, he is.” The sound of the zip being pulled up draws her attention. He looks just a fraction more relaxed and that’s what she needs. It’s part of her job, the less violent part compared to what Hudson is dealing with right about now. 

“Do you have siblings, deputy?”

“I do. I’m the youngest of four, so…”

He laughs, it’s weak. “The baby of the family can never do wrong. At least that’s how it was with my brothers and I. I’m trying to protect him, I’m trying to get him away from the drugs and partying but it’s how he fights his demons.” His head snaps up suddenly, eyes wide, “please don’t think any less of John. He’s a wonderful man, bless his heart.”

“Was that...are you from the south or did you just give your brother a backhanded compliment?”

That startles a laugh out of Joseph. A genuine smile slipping free as he tilts his head curiously. “You’re an interesting police officer.”

She gives a sheepish little smile. “I guess.” 

Joseph’s hand clench in his lap. He’s shifting in his seat, tugging at the loose threads of his jeans wearily. Hesitantly he raises his head. “Do you have a phone I can borrow, Deputy Rook? I didn’t have time to grab mine and I think I should call our other brother.”

“Of course,” she takes her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and hands it off to Joseph. Her head turns away, towards the clinic where the door swings open. 

If Joseph notices he doesn’t react, his foot is tapping against the ground and he’s got a white knuckled grip on her phone. Mumbling under his breath as it rings. She takes that moment to step away. 

“So what’s the verdict?” Rook asks weakly. 

“They ran a blood test after they sedated him, there are signs of heroin and cocaine in his system. And alcohol, but I figured that, I could smell it on his breath.” Joey jerks her head towards where Joseph is sitting in the back of their cruiser, legs hanging over the edge as he speaks animatedly into her phone. “What’s up with him?”

“Older brother, Joseph. Found his brother—John—tweaked out.”

“Must've scared him half to death.”

Rook snorted, “no shit.” Her hands fall to her hips and she sighs. She’s suddenly very tired, though she has a feeling there’s going to be a mound of paperwork they’ll have to do before either one of them can make it home. “Are we charging John?”

“We should. But that sounds like a problem to deal with tomorrow morning. When he’s sober.”

Rook nods, about to speak when Joseph’s voice raises behind her and she has to look. He’s hunched over, tears running down his cheeks as he tries to quiet his sobs. 

“Who’s he calling?”

“Brother. Didn’t get a name.” She turns back to Joey with a frown, “do you recognize them?”

“I don’t. Thought I knew almost everyone. Though they could just be reclusive, some people come here to get away from society. We’ll run their records tomorrow though, figure out who they are and if any charges will stick.” Joey pats her shoulder as she walks towards the car, “c’mon, Rook, let's get going.”

Rook does the talking as far as Joseph is conceded when Joey slides in the driver's seat. Just as tired as she is, probably more so. Rook’s never had to deal with a junkie before. It’s easier to crouch beside Joseph and be a shoulder to cry on.

“Do you need a ride home?” 

“No.” He sniffs, handing back her phone and rubbing his eyes. “My brother and I will stay here tonight, we’ll wait for John.”

Hudson catches Rook’s eyes in the rear view mirror. Frowning slightly, still unsure about who these strangers are. “What’s your brother’s name? The one you just called.”

“Jacob.”

She purses her lips. “And you three live in Hope county?” 

“We do. In a cabin up north, though John just bought some property here, in the Valley. That’s where he was tonight when I found him…”

Rook shushes him when he hiccups, carefully holding onto his elbow to help him stand. “We can wait until your brother gets here before we leave.”

“No, no, don't go through the trouble. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

Rook’s lips twist, her heart aching for this stranger standing in front of her breaking down. She’d rather deal with another drunken disagreement at the Spread Eagle. This is too much, and maybe that shows on her face because Joseph’s suddenly the one comforting  _ her _ . Giving her a placating smile and reassuring her that he’ll be okay, that she should just go home to her family. 

It doesn’t feel quite right when they drive away and leave him standing in the parking lot. Even when she eventually clocks out and makes her way home, stopping by Nick and Kim’s to pick up a sleeping Oliver—she feels sick. 

*****

The next day she goes to the clinic by herself, letting Joey handle the paperwork. Her coworker doesn’t seem to mind at least. Which is concerning, Rook hadn’t been the one to talk to John and the fact that Joey didn’t put up a fight might mean something. Maybe he’s a little more unhinged than she first thought. 

She sees Joseph first, leaning against a dirty red pick up truck and fiddling with something in his hands. He looks up when she pulls in, throwing whatever he had been holding through the window on the seat to greet her. 

“Deputy, I didn’t know you’d be back.”

“Yeah well,” she shifts uneasily, “your brother did break the law.” She pauses and hopes he gets where she’s going with this. “That’s sorta what I do. Enforce said law.”

Joseph frowns, but he doesn’t look angry. Thank god, she isn’t sure she could picture him yelling at her after what she saw yesterday. He seems too sweet for that. 

“I understand. He can’t keep going on like this and a shock like jail time might make him see. He’s inside, arguing with Jacob, you can go talk to him.”

She smiles, “thank you, Joseph.” And she means it, he’s been more cooperative than she expected. Which leaves her to deal with John. She lingers in the open doorway where he’s being kept, eyes bouncing between the two brothers. 

Their so called argument isn’t as heated as she expected, though that might have something to do with the fact that John isn’t drugged out of his mind like before. Not as quick to anger, then.” 

“Can I speak with John for just a moment?” She interrupts. Smiling kindly as two sets of eyes turn on her. “I’m Deputy Rook.” She steps inside and extends her hand to Jacob, waiting while he looks between her palm and her face. 

John makes a noise in the back of his throat and finally Jacob moves. Grabbing her hand in his much larger one and pumping it once. 

“Jacob Seed.” He tips his head in the direction of his little brother, “and that’s John.”

“Right, we didn’t have the chance to meet yesterday, John.”

He gives her a smile and it’s so bright. So wide and kind that she can’t picture him being the type to use drugs the way he had last night. The clothes laying on top of a chair beside him—his clothes—adds more mystique. She spots a suit and tie, some black slacks and a pair of neatly polished dress shoes below the chair. 

If it weren’t for the bags beneath his eyes and the wrinkled hospital gown she would assume he’s someone important. 

“Can I talk to you alone, John?”

“Of course, officer,” he replies smoothly, like he’s done this song and dance before. But her and Joey looked at his record before she left and he’s clean. Not so much as a speeding ticket. And now this? It seems strange, though she knows everyone’s luck runs out eventually. And if not for his brother’s surprise visit he’d still be getting away with it. 

The door closes gently behind Jacob as he leaves and she takes that moment to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. “can you tell me what you remember from yesterday?” 

He fixes her with a sultry look, maybe one meant to make her let him off a little easier. “Where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning of the day.” 

His eyebrows raise, he hadn’t been expecting that then. She wonders if he has something to hide, any omission to his story. That’s what she’s looking for, if he’ll stutter or trip up. 

He’s smooth in his delivery though. Telling her how he woke up that morning in the cabin he and his brothers share, and got ready for work. 

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a property lawyer.” 

Makes sense. The outfit. The way he speaks. Even the drugs, it wouldn’t be the first time someone in a line of power made some ballsy decisions with drugs. He’s probably been to a few interesting parties with some not so legal escorts too.

He doesn’t leave out any detail, tells her how he visited a few residents to discuss property lines and if they’d be willing to sell some land to him. That’s where she cuts him off. 

“Joseph said you already bought a house.”

He smiles at her, though it’s the kind of smile given to a child who doesn’t understand. 

“I did. About a week ago, but I wanted to add on to my home. I’d like a big yard.”

“Alright, so did you strike a deal?”

His lips twist, recalling some memory from that day. “Unfortunately no. No one is looking to give up their land.” He shifts on the bed, tugging at his hospital gown. “I didn’t like the idea of going home empty handed so to speak.”

“So you went to your new home.”

He nods, not looking away from her but constantly moving. Either he’s nervous, or he’s very good at playing nervous. 

Without answering her he pushes the thin blanket off his waist and swings his legs over the side of the bed. She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. It’s when he tears at his IV and starts to stand up that she’s at his side.

“You shouldn’t be up.”

“Why not?” He says simply, brushing her away. “I have things to do today. Times wasting, you know?”

Rook huffs and stands back. Pushing herself into a corner as she watches him walk. She can tell he has a headache by the way he squints and presses against his temple, but it’s not like he can’t walk. He’s not wounded too badly. 

“Anyway,” he starts up again, grabbing for his discarded clothes, “I went to my newly purchased home to lick my wounds in private.”

“When did the drugs come into play?”

He sighs, “I’m not sure what exact time.” He tips his head to the side and clicks his tongue in thought. “It was dark out.”

“And where did you get the drugs?” Because if there’s a local dealer in Hope county then this is something they need to know about.

“Georgia. From back before we moved to Montana.”

Good. That’s good. If he’s telling the truth. 

“Okay,” she looks down, patting at her sides and realizing she didn’t bring anything to write on. She looks back up, toying with the idea that she should go out to the car and grab a notepad—and John’s half naked in front of her.

“Christ!” She puts her hand over her eyes and feels her cheeks go red when John laughs. 

“Have you really never seen a man in his underwear, deputy? I didn’t think it’d be an issue.”

“I—uh,” c’mon Rook say something. Speak. Don’t just stand there and stutter like an idiot. But she isn’t sure  _ what _ to say, really this shouldn’t be awkward at all, but the glance she got of John’s body was good. He’s lean, muscles lining his thighs and stomach. And he has tattoos. A whole field of them stretching around his torso and legs. One disappearing down the front of his boxers. 

“Right.” She lowers her hand but doesn’t look at him. “Sorry. Keep going.” 

There isn’t much else to the story after that, at least nothing else that he can remember. It matches with Joseph’s, but he tells her that Joseph filled in the blanks he couldn’t remember.

“What about the blood, Joseph said you fell?”

He laughs, “yeah I guess I did. I’ll have to buy a new coffee table.”

When she risks and glance towards him he’s pulling his belt through the loops of his jeans. Finally clothed, she has the courage to speak once more. “You realize we need you down at the station, right?”

_ That  _ catches him off guard. Has him staring at her open mouthed. “For what? Speeding? Reckless driving?”

“That.” She says slowly, eyeing him as he yanks on his shoes with a little more force than necessary “and the illegal substances you had.” 

He makes a disgruntled noise before stomping over to the door and pulling it open. Jacob is still waiting there, arms crossed over his broad chest. He fixes her with an icy stare before sliding his eyes back to John. 

“They need me at the police station.”

Jacob puts up less of a fuss, but he doesn’t seem happy with it. Which is normal, though it’s different from the kind of disgruntled unease that Joseph had. And it dawns on her, Jacob’s mad at  _ her.  _ He hates her at this moment. The way he tailgates her cruiser on the way to the station is evidence of that. 

Rook doesn’t like the idea of having to sit with John’s brothers while he’s interviewed and read his rights, she’d rather talk to the man himself, even if he’s like a snake charmer and would run circles around her. Whitehorse insists though, says that Hudson found out he’s mighty important where he came from and that they need to be careful. 

That leaves Rook sitting at her desk making small talk with Joseph and Jacob, when he wanted to chip in. It doesn’t take as long as she would’ve thought, thirty minutes at the most and then John’s walking out of the interview room with a smile. Whitehorse trailing along behind him. 

“Let’s go home, brothers.” John chirps, jacket held over his arms. He flashes her a practiced smile, ignoring her confused look. “You’ve been very kind to me, deputy, thank you for that. Have a blessed day.” His gaze lingers on her a little longer than she likes, biting his lip as his glances between her and Joseph before he’s gone. 

She talks only when they’ve left, turning on Whitehorse. “What happened in there? I thought we had him!”

To her left she sees Pratt perk up. The probie questioning the sheriff? That’s a good way to lose your job. 

Whitehorse isn’t angry with her though. He just looks tired. “That man is slick. I doubt this is his first run in with the law. He’s good at what he does, Rook, I’ll just say that.”

“Should we keep our eyes on them?” Hudson asks, not looking up from her computer.

“No. No, we don’t need them making accusations that we’re targeting them. Get back to work, start your rounds on the street, just forget about them for now.”

Rook can’t do that at all. The rest of the day driving around with Joey should be like every other shift. It’s not though. She’s scanning outside the windows for those strange men, for any sign that they live where they said they do. 

She comes up empty because of course she does, and life goes on. She even gets to go home early the next day to Oliver. Which means a midday walk—some fresh air should do them both some good. 

Until it doesn’t. Like the world is one big joke and nothing will ever go her way again. Because she runs into John Seed. 

He spots her first, walking past a large winding path that must lead up to his house, and he calls out to her. Jogging to catch up before she has a chance to escape. 

“Oh. John.” 

“Deputy Rook. It’s lovely to see you.” 

Her nose scrunches up and she holds onto Oliver’s hand a little tighter. “Is it? I almost charged you.”

“You did. But to be fair a lot of people don’t like me, I’m used to it.”

Her lips tip down, “that’s...really sad.”

He just shrugs and looks away. Though she has a feeling he’s faking his emotions again. 

“I guess so.” Then his eyes dart down to Oliver and he lights up. “And who’s this?” He kneels down, extending a hand and laughing when Oliver reaches out to grasp his fingers. Her son is only really interested in the tattoos on John’s knuckles though. 

“Oliver. My son.”

He perks up at her words, “I didn’t know you had a child. How wonderful. And your husband, is he around?”

She gives a tight awkward smile, floundering with her words. She doesn't want to lie, jot because she respects John, but because her doctor said it wouldn't be good for her in the long run. She’s trying, every day is a battle, especially now as John fixes her with a sharp gaze. “he was gone before Ollie was born. He, um, he was arrested. For the things he did to me.” 

John stands up, ruffling the sparse hair on her son’s head. Suddenly very serious. “Any man coward enough to harm the woman carrying his child isn’t worth it, my dear.”

She just nods, unwilling to tell him that she’s more than aware that Oliver’s dad isn’t worth her time. She found that out years ago. 

“Well you two make a beautiful family. Have a nice walk, Rook.” He watches her as she goes. Only turning to leave when she’s just a dot on the horizon. She isn’t sure if she's justified, but she doesn’t like John. 

*****

The rumors are humorous at first, if only because her closet of friends know that they’re total crap. Also because John has apparently pulled shit like this before. Going around telling people that he’s the father of a child that clearly isn’t his. 

Even if Ollie and him both have gorgeous blue eyes and a shock of dark brown hair. 

She just doesn’t appreciate the strangers that live past the Valley who believe it may be true. 

That’s when she goes to John herself. Holding Oliver on her hip as she walks up the path to his house—and that alone takes five minutes—until she can knock on his door. She ignores the people scattered around his property staring at her like she’s somebody special. She doesn’t recognize them and hopes that just maybe they’re landscapers. 

It takes mere seconds and the door swings open. Like John had been watching her and waiting. 

“Rook, Oliver, what a pleasure,” he steps aside, “would you like to come in.”

She puts up a hand, “no need. This won’t take long.”

He tips his head to the side and smiles. “Oh, alright then. Go ahead.”

“What you’re telling people, that needs to stop. I’m not sure what games you’re playing at—“

“Games? There aren’t any games, Rook. I can assure you of that.” His expression suddenly hardens. Anger winning out over whatever else is inside him. “Don’t you see what’s going on, my dear?”

“Uh, no,” she laughs, “not really, John”

“I'll explain everything in due time, but for now all you need to know is that I’ve always yearned for a family of my own. A wife to dote on and a child to love unconditionally. And here you are, in need of a partner—it takes a village to raise a child, after all.”

She stares at him, arms wrapping tighter around Oliver. Her knees are weak, legs shaking as she steps back. “I’m sorry you don’t have that, John.” Her voice has pitched to a whisper, so very scared to see him angry. She has a feeling he’s a dangerous man, so she chooses her words carefully. Tries to think of something to say that won’t make him snap. “If you need someone to talk to I’m here, no hard feelings...just don’t let me find you half dead with a needle in your veins, please?”

He smiles at her, stepping forward to brush his knuckle along her cheek. “You have my word. I’ll be good for you.” 

John keeps his promise for about a week. 

Then he shows up at her doorstep with a small army waiting for her. As she pulls up to her house she notes how frustrated he looks. Pacing back and forth on her lawn and throwing angry glances around. It’s only when their eyes meet briefly that he softens. 

He practically dashes to her car. Pushing through the throng of people—faces she doesn’t recognize—to get to her. His palms lay flat on the window as he peers inside at her, waving lithe fingers at Ollie when he spies the little boy in the back seat. 

“My darling,” John coos, too sweet for their status of relationship. Almost strangers as they are. “I thought you’d be home when I arrived. I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Yeah.” Her mouth is dry as she scans the yard. She sees guns. Lots of guns. “I was working. Pulled a double today to cover for Pratt, he’s sick.”

John hums to show he's listening, hand dropping to tug at the door handle. Frowning when it doesn’t give way. And she doesn’t move to unlock the door either, even with his pointed gaze.

“What’s going on, John?”

“I’m here to collect you.” He says it so simply. Like she and her son are nothing more than a pair of dogs.

“Right. And why’s that?”

He smiles at her, but it’s all wrong. Just a tad too many teeth showing. “Because we're going to be a family. I knew it the first time I saw you, and Joseph confirmed it. It’s been so long since he heard the Voice, but he saw you and it whispered in his ear once more. He told Joseph that you’re meant to stand by my side. That I’m to get your husband and Oliver’s father—that we’ll make a child of our own as well one day.”

Rook isn’t sure what she’s expected to do with all the information he just threw at her. Half of which didn’t even make sense. So instead she just blinks real slow at him, gnawing on her lip as she considers how safe it would be driving away, he’d no doubt give chase. 

“John,” she begins shakily, “we hardly know each other. I met you like twice.”

“So?”

_ So why are you obsessed with me _ , she thinks but absolutely does not say. 

“Now come out of there, don’t make me do something I’ll regret.” He pointedly tugs at the handle again. And she knows deep in her heart that he’s won. She wouldn’t dare put Oliver in harm’s way. That’s her one weakness and John has to know that. She won’t take the risk of John putting his hands on her son just to make her comply. 

Carefully she clicks the lock, turning around to grab Oliver out of his car seat. He squirms in her grasp, making soft noises when he spots John as he opens the door for her to step out. 

“Oh, there you are,” he murmurs to her child, rubbing along his pudgy cheek and grinning when it rewards him a toothless grin. “Come here.” Before she can protest or even think to fight, John’s grabbing Oliver from her hold, cradling him to his chest sweetly. 

Oliver, the poor thing, hardly knows any better and he’s quick to curl his head under John’s chin. Arms loosely draped around his neck. 

“Let’s go, my dear, our life awaits.” 

He turns on his heel and must fully expect her to follow because he doesn’t bother looking back. He knows her well, she’s at his heels the entire time, fingers clenching beside her. 

“You won’t get away with this. Someone will come looking for me.”

He laughs, leading her to a waiting truck and pulling open the back seat for her. “They can certainly try. But things are already in motion, Rook. The reaping has begun.” He leans forward and lays a gentle kiss on her lips, pulling back before he gets caught in the snap of her teeth. 

“Oh this is going to be fun, isn’t it?” He gets in and waits for her to do the same, which she has to, he’s still holding Oliver. She closes the door behind her and bundles her fists into her lap. Glaring at his profile as he snaps at someone to start driving. 

“You’re crazy,” she tells him softly. 

“I’ve been called worse with a lot more conviction. Try again.” 

Rook doesn’t. She sits back and lets the feeling of numb regret wash across her. She isn’t sure what he plans on doing to her or what he expects from her, but she knows that there’s no way in hell she’ll be trapped with him for long. She’s a deputy. People will come looking.

She’ll be fine, right? But if that’s the case then why does he look so confident? 


	86. Car Shenanigans (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook and John are on a long road trip and to help with the boredom she gives him a BJ while he is driving

“How much longer?”

John hums, eyes briefly flickering to his left where his phone is hanging up on the windshield. He lets out a soft sigh, glancing over at her. “Five hours.”

“For fucks sake.” Rook falls back against the seat, properly annoyed. “Who’s idea was this, again?”

John’s lip twitches, amused, “yours, if my memory serves me correctly. You said something about ‘meeting your parents for the holiday…’ is that ringing any bells?”

She laughs, trying to to stretch her limbs out as much as she can in the confines of his car. “We could’ve flown though.”

“We don’t have a plane big enough for you, me and my siblings. We had this discussion already.” 

“We could’ve bought one.”

His eyes narrow, brows pulling down tight as he slams his hands down on the wheel in annoyance. “What? Bought a commercial airliner? Are you mad, do you know how much those things cost?”

She shrugs, leaning against the window at an angle to get a better look at him. She momentarily glances in the side mirror, where his family were slowly trailing along behind them in a car of their own. She’d like the extra company they could offer if they were driving together, but it turns out they’re more high maintenance then she thought and all their bags wouldn’t fit in John’s SUV. 

And she’s bored with just one man to keep her entertained. Even if that man is her boyfriend. Or whatever they are. They’re certainly serious enough to be brought around for Christmas. 

She purses her lips and taps her cheek. Five more hours. Jesus Christ.

“Just go to sleep or something.”

Rook frowns, “what?”

“I can practically see the gears in your head turning. You’re getting antsy.” 

“You’re not?”

He laughs, “I drove all the way from Georgia to Montana, I’ve had practice.” He smiles at her and it’s fucking annoying, “California is nothing.” 

“Well I’m bored out of my mind.”

“I know.” Without taking his eyes off the road he reaches over and places his hand on her thigh. Squeezing once before he strokes his thumb over her skin. “It’ll be worth it though, right? You said you were excited.”

“I am.” She squirms, trying to lay on her side. The seat doesn’t go down though, too much crap in the back seat. She grabs his hand off her thigh and brings it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. 

The action makes him visibly relax. Tension leaving his body as he rolls his shoulders back and sighs. The hint of a smile on his lips as she goes further up his arm, kissing his wrist and sucking at a tattoo.

“I have an idea,” she murmurs against his skin. Smiling up at him. 

He just raises an eyebrow, not bothering to look at her, too busy switching lanes and not side swiping someone. 

“I’ve seen this in a porno once—it’ll give me something to do.”

“Ah—Rook, what?” He glances at her, the car swerving just a bit. He looks nervous, an expression she’s not used to seeing from him. 

She unbuckles her seatbelt for more room, and slides down, reaching across the center console.

“What are you...Jesus Christ, put your seatbelt on.” He shakes his head, “you’d think as a cop you’d have more self preservation.”

Rook doesn’t answer, instead she skims her nails across the front of his jeans. Watching the way his face changes as it dawns on him what she’s doing. 

“Is that a good idea?” He hazards to ask. 

“Dunno. I guess we’re going to find out.” 

John lets out a shaky breath. Shifting in his seat, subtly spreading his legs as he does so. Giving her more room to work. 

She doesn’t waste any time unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper. She pops the button on his jeans and touches him through his boxers. Groping his cock until she feels it start to harden. Her hand trails lower, down to his balls. She rolls them in her hand, giving them a squeeze and delighting in his moan. 

John’s always so vocal for her, now is no exception. 

He bucks his hips up into the next pass of her fingers. She doesn’t want to tease him, now's not the time for it, and so she snaps the waistband of his boxers, humming happily when he lifts his hips enough for her to pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs. 

“Look at you, already leaking.” She thumbs over the slit of his cock, smearing his pre-cum along his shaft. 

“For you, darling. Just for you.” 

She kisses his tip sweetly, licking down to his balls where she slides back up. She wraps her lips around his head, sucking gently until he inhales sharply. 

She can tell he wants to thrust up, but he keeps himself planted firmly on the seat. Maybe not trusting how steady he’d be able to drive when moving so much. 

Just in case though she keeps her hand planted firmly on his thigh. 

Rook begins to bob her head up and down, taking as much as she can as he relaxes her throat. Going down to the base where she holds it just for a moment, letting him bask in the warmth of her mouth. 

She pulls up when the lack of oxygen gets to be too much. Her hand pumps his cock, stroking steadily up and down. The motion has him shaking, muscles tense under her hand. His chest is heaving, obviously aching to do more than just get sucked off. 

“Your family has a spare bedroom I hope?” 

Rook laughs, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Yep, just for you and me.”

“God, I’m gonna fuck you when we get there.” He turns slightly to capture her lips, eyes trying to stay on the road. The car swerves just a bit, and Jacob will probably ask them about it when they reach their destination. 

“Yeah?” She goes back down, trailing sharp nails over his abdomen. “With my parents and your siblings right next door?” 

“Mhm. I don’t care who hears us.” 

She hums, taking him back down. She quickens her pace. Gagging around his cock as she goes. John likes it when she’s messy, when there’s drool dripping out of the corners of her mouth and she can’t breathe. 

“Christ—“ his head falls back against the headrest. “I’m going to cum soon, if you don’t want it down your throat you got to stop.” He reaches up, tangling her hair around his fist. “Rook.” His hips thrust up into her mouth, catching her off guard and choking her. 

She just whines, sending vibrations down his cock. She rubs her thighs together, slicked wet from the sounds he’s making. He gives her another warning of her name, but she wants it, she wants to taste him for the rest of the drive. And so she keeps his cock down her mouth, catching his spent on her tongue. 

“God, I gotta pull over.” He glances over at her, letting out a low groan as she wipes her mouth. “Can you drive for a bit?”

She laughs, tucking his soft cock back into his jeans and fixing him up. “Yeah,” she drawls, glancing behind them. “Do you think you’ll be able to keep your cool around your family?”

He huffs, “Joseph and Faith, sure.” He tips his head in consideration. “Jacob—absolutely not.” 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from big brother. C’mon, pull over.”

John does so eagerly, pulling her in for one last kiss before they hop out. “Give me a little bit to catch my breath. Then I’m going to repay the favor tenfold. And after we get to your parents I’m going to tie you up and  _ ravage  _ you. You’re in for a long night, my dear.” 


	87. Missing Clothes (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook has noticed that her panties keep going missing, only to catch John touching himself with them.

“Okay, weird question.”

Adelaide hums to show she’s listening. Head dipped low as she flips through an old magazine with her feet propped up on an ammo crate. 

And so Rook barrels on. “Have you been borrowing my clothes?” 

Addie looks up at her and smiles. “No offense, honey, but your fashion sense doesn’t exactly align with mine. You see, whereas you’re busy running around causing chaos, I’d rather run around making peoples’ heads turn.” Addie’s smile never wanes, she almost seems proud when Rook’s cheeks go red. 

“No—by clothes I meant...y’know, like,” her lips twist as she struggles to get her words out, “panties?” 

“Oh, why didn’t you just say?” She tosses the magazine down and stretches. “You know me, I wouldn’t borrow them without asking, doll.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, of course.”

“Why, is something wrong? Do you need extra panties?” 

“No,” Rook laughs and flushes once more, “I just can’t find them, like they’re disappearing. I had five pairs and now I’m down to two. So I guess I need extras, right? But I bought some last week and they’re gone! Am I going crazy? Has all this shit finally got to me?” 

“You’re hopping from one place to the next, hon, you’ve probably just left a few behind at whatever hole you crawl into at night.”

Rook nods, it makes sense, but she doesn’t have time to go investigate every location she’s been at in the last week looking for her underwear. In the end it’s not worth it. 

And for a while she forgets about the whole ordeal. She switches between her remaining two pair, stinking and bloody and feeling so fucking gross. There’s more important shit on her mind—right now that shit seems to be taking John’s ranch. The people in the valley seem to think it’s a wonderful idea, like they’ve forgotten all about the crazy man who just so happens to reside there. 

If this doesn’t work he’ll kill them. Hell, even if they do somehow manage to pull this off he’ll probably still hunt a number of them down just because he’s a petty bitch. 

“We need to do recon first, I don’t want to lose anyone, so we have to know what we’re walking into.” Nick shrugs when Rook groans, “if it were a one story flat then it’d be a different story, but his ranch is huge.”

She rubs at her brow, annoyed at the implied danger of sneaking into his house just to draw up a map. “Isn’t there anyone we could ask?”

“Noone’s been inside there except his family, he hardly even lets his guards wander inside.”

“Fine,” Rook grits, “I’ll look around.”

“You sure? We can send someone else, tons of people are willing to do something for you, Rook, especially after all you’ve done for them.”

She nods and grabs her gun, screwing a silencer on the muzzle. “I'm sure. Look, I’ll be alright. Easy in and easy out.”

Nick doesn’t look convinced, though since things have gotten more heated over the weeks he’s been in a constant state of perpetual worry. 

“If I’m not back by tonight then send help.”

*****

John’s ranch was a sight to behold no matter which angle it’s being viewed at. But from the inside? Words don’t do it justice. John has good taste, she’ll give him that. His time before the project served him well in at least one aspect. 

She shouldn’t be taking her time admiring his furniture, but that’s kind of what she’s here for. Or at least she’s going to tell herself that. It helps that she’s actively taking notes, makes her feel like she isn’t completely useless as she picks up knick knacks and examines pictures. 

Rook does one last sweep of the ground floor, drawing a messy map of his hanger and the living room that breaks off into a kitchen. She ascends the stairs two at a time, light on her feet. 

She comes across bedroom after bedroom, too many of them for a man living alone quite frankly. There are bathrooms, broom closets and a study. She lingers there for a few seconds longer. It’s beautifully decorated, with worn oak wood furnishings and a fireplace accentuated with a plush couch and a huge bookcase. She lets out a low whistle before backing out—the resistance is going to have fun with this place. 

John’s run so many people out of their homes it’s only fair. She’ll be sure to tell him so when she sees him next. 

“Rook?” Her radio blares to life by her side and she jumps, rushing to grab it off her belt. She hasn’t cleared the whole house yet, one more hallway to go, and she isn’t looking to blow her cover. 

“What is it Nick?” 

“Just...y’know checking in. Making sure we didn’t lose you.”

She sighs, lets him hear it, but his sincerity makes her heart ache. It’s a sweet sentiment. “Nah, everything’s good, I’m almost done actually. Should be back in a few.”

“Good. Maybe you could stay the night? Kim wants to treat you to some dinner, our thanks for helping us defend our home.”

She brightens, starts making her way down the hall, “that sounds  _ amazing _ , god I can’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal. I’ll be there. See ya, Nick, over and out.”

“Over and out.” 

Rook tucks the radio back into her belt and pushes open another door—it’s beginning to feel like Christmas. Though it’s only another bathroom, she peeks inside, about to turn away when there’s the large snap of something banging against the other side of the wall. 

She nearly screams. Clutching her hand to her chest. 

The sound repeats. And she steps out of the bathroom to see a closed door—the room that sound is coming from. 

She narrows her eyes and remembers what Nick had told her. No one goes inside John’s house except him and his family.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, taking out her gun as she creeps towards the door. It’s slightly ajar, a sliver of light peeking through. She nudges it open wider with her toe, twisting her head around and freezing at what she sees. 

It’s John alright. He’s lying spread out on his bed, in what can only be his room, blankets shoved to the side to combat the slick of sweat she can see starting on his body even from here. 

John hasn’t seen her yet. Probably for numerous reasons, like the fact that his head is thrown back on the pillows behind him, knees cocked and open as his hand works furiously between. He’s so lost in his own bitten off moans that hadn’t heard her this entire time. 

“Please,” he mutters between clenched teeth, “don’t tease me, darling, please.” She watches his toes curl as he strokes up his cock, and it’s then that she realizes something else. Within his grasp, the same fist he’s fucking himself into, is a dainty piece of fabric. 

Her brain finally catches up and her cheeks go red just as he takes his other hand and shoves two spit slicked fingers in his puckered hole. The tips of her ears feel like they’re all fire. She recognizes the clothing he’s holding oh so tightly onto. _Her_ _panties._ The bastard, how did he even…? God did she actually want to know?

“Take me, my beautiful darling, take all of me.” He ruts upward, feet planted firmly on the mattress so he can thrust his hips up. He makes a strangled noise, like he’s in physical pain, before he comes. Ruining the pink fabric with his seed. 

She sees red, she’ll admit that, and maybe later she’ll think of how she should’ve done something different—but in the moment, her wrath gets the better of her. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ do you think you’re doing, John?” 

John yells, panic in his voice as he scrambles up the bed, his back hitting the headboard roughly. He shoves a hand over his softening cock, her panties still held in his fist. He squints, just barely making her out in the darkness of the hallway. “R-Rook?” 

“Yeah.” A tad of her anger fades away, if only because the embarrassment starts to set in. “Now answer my question.” To motivate him, or maybe just to try and get the upper hand, she steps into his room. 

He bares his teeth at her, legs snapping closed as he grabs at a blanket to throw over his hips. “Fucking stop!” He barks, tipping his head down as he avoids her eyes.

“Answer. Me. What the fuck are you doing with my goddamn panties?”

Realization dawns on his face. Mouth slowly opening. “Oh. You recognize them?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t really have a lot of them to go around. Not much to keep track of.” 

He nods slowly, shifting in the bed. “Can you...leave?” 

She purses her lips, putting her gun back in the waistband of her jeans. “John.” 

“Fucking hell, you’re a big girl deputy, what do you think I’m doing with them?”

She sneers. Gross. She doesn’t want to think about that. “One more question.”

He groans, head falling back and hitting the headboard with a full thunk. “Fine. Make it fast or I’ll scream and you’ll be dragged away spending the night in my bunker.”

She cocks an eyebrow, hardly threatening. “Alright. Where’s the rest of my underwear?”

“Why would you be so hasty as to assume I have it in the first place?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I’ll stay and search every inch of your house until I find them.”

“I’ll buy you more.” He's quick to say, “any kind, as much as you want. They’ll be much nicer than these, something pretty, maybe a little lace or silk for you to run around in.”

_ Oh.  _

Oh, she loves this. 

She hums, content with that deal. “You have a little kink, huh, John?”

“Shut up.”

She giggles, “don’t worry, I won’t tell. But I’ll take you up on that.”

He sighs, eyeing her wearily. “Good. Now leave. Get the hell out of my house.”

“Mhm. Hope you have sweet dreams tonight, Johnny.” 

He practically growls at her and when she shuts the door—just in time—she hears something crash behind her. She scoffs, he would throw something at her. As petty as he is. Not like it matters, she thinks she might be able to put up with John now, he just got a helluva lot more interesting. 


	88. Ghost of My Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John dated Rook in the past before running to Montana with his family

Joseph knew something they didn’t. He wasn’t often that he woke up their flock to preach at night. John can count on one hand how many times he pulled this shit. It never gets any easier, the fatigue he feels is quick to set in, but this time something compelled him to pay attention. 

Maybe it’s the way Jacob is on guard tonight, or the intensity of those sitting in the pews, or even the subject matter of tonight’s sermon. It’s been a while since he spoke so clearly about the snakes in their garden. John wonders if he missed something. Was there a text he didn’t get that the rest of the family did? 

John keeps his face schooled into a proper mask though, he has certain expectations as a herald and so he acts like he knows exactly what’s going to happen. And yet he still panics when he hears the chopper. 

Him and Jacob share a glance but stay where they are. No need to show weakness in front of so many people. If it’s just the police, they’ll deal with it. John knows how to handle his own with the few deputies Hope has to offer by now. If it’s something more than that, the feds? The national guard? John’s not sure he’ll be able to keep up with them. 

When the doors do burst open he feels a twinge of anxiety curl low in his stomach. He notices the sheriff—but deputy Pratt and Hudson are nowhere to be found. He glances down at the vest that says Marshall and he can’t help when his muscles grow stiff. The woman trailing along behind them doesn’t look nearly as intimidating, she’s got her head tipped down and her face covered with a cap. 

She has a limp. That’s the first thing he picks up on this stranger. The second being her dark eyes, deep brown and piercing. They seem to look right through Joseph. She isn’t paying attention to the rest of them as they gather behind Joseph. But it’s then, as their flock protects their heralds, that John gets a better look at her. 

And oh, she hasn’t changed at all. Years have gone by and she doesn’t look any different than when they were together. ‘Together’ being a relative term, they never defined what they were. He knew how he felt about her though, how once upon a time he longed to see her every day. 

Before Joseph came along they spoke about living together. 

He regrets leaving her behind, but he never had the balls to reach out and tell her so, even if he had the means to do so. Now his demons are here to haunt him. Now he has to pay for his sins. 

John laces his fingers behind his back, smiling behind his fear as Jacob looks over at him and gives a shake of his head. He turns his focus back to Rook—he's so sure it’s her, but if he’s wrong he’ll have some explaining to do. 

“Rook?” 

*****

“Rook?”

She has the touch of Joseph’s cool, slightly sweaty skin under her hands, ready to snap the handcuffs around his wrists, when she pauses at the call of her name. Her eyes slide up, glancing over Joseph’s shoulder to the man standing off to the side. Someone she wouldn’t have given a second glance to if he hadn’t have recognized her first. 

Her eyes narrow, lips twisting into a frown as her hand unconsciously tightens around Joseph’s wrist. 

She’s about to ignore him, to return to the task at hand so she can get home sooner. But he steps forward and says her name again and things get out of hand from there. 

Burke raises his gun and shouts at him to “stand back,” which prompts John to tug his own pistol from the waistband of his jeans, though he doesn’t aim the thing. No, that’s already handled by his much larger, much more intimidating brother. 

Rook steps away from Joseph, raising her hands placatingly. Her eyes dart over to the man they’re here to arrest, and finds him looking none too concerned at all. He glances back at his family and then at her, doing that a few times before raising a hand to stop his brother from shooting. 

“You know this woman, John?”

“I...I think so.”

Joseph looks at her and she shakes her head immediately.

“No,” John snarls with shaking fists. “No, look at me, Rook.  _ Really _ look at me. You know me.” 

Whitehorse lays a hand on her shoulder. Grabbing her attention. “Rookie? That true?”

Behind her Burke mutters something that sounds like “conflict of interest,” but what the fuck does he know? He’s the idiot who drew his gun. 

“I…” she hesitates before stepping closer. Squinting in the low light in the church to see John properly. He has the hint of a smile on his face as she looks him over, a spark in his eyes when she opens her mouth and mutters a soft “John...John Duncan?”

“It’s Seed now, actually.”

She nods rapidly, suddenly it’s all coming back to her in a flash of angry hurt. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember you.” She bares her teeth at him and steps even closer despite her training and better judgment. “You left me.” She laughs none too kindly, uncaring about the looks being thrown her way. “After all we’ve been through. You ran away when I needed you most.”

“My brothers…Joseph showed up and then we found Jacob and...we had things to do. I had to leave.” 

She skips her eyes over Joseph and Jacob, commits their faces to memory and tries to find a place for them in her past. They don’t look like the same men who she saw at John’s high rise apartment. Jacob is larger, not as starved or dirty. The same can be said for Joseph, if they’re really who they say they are and she isn’t forging false memories. He’s not as dirty either, not as gaunt. He’s far from the homeless man John let into his arms and spent nights telling her about. 

They’ve grown into themselves, now so very different. And so is John. Their years apart changed him. 

“I thought of you every day, Rook. You were my best friend.” He pauses, glancing away from her. “More than that really. I...I loved you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she mutters, hand tightening on the cuffs. “Joseph Seed, step forward.” 

“Rook—“

“Shut up, John.” She refocuses back on the brother she’s here for. “Step. Forward.” 

Joseph does so silently. Staring at her with something akin to amazement shining in his eyes. It’s soft and curious, almost mirroring John’s want. 

John doesn’t want her to go, strange considering the legacy he’s built here in Hope County. He’s doing well for himself. And yet he still calls out to her, one last time right before she’s about to leave the danger of the church. It’s a beckon she can’t resist. God, it’s been so long since she’s heard her name on his tongue. 

Her head turns, nails digging into Joseph’s bare shoulder. Then all of a sudden said man is being ripped from her grip and tossed to the side and away from her. Her muscles go tense as her hand drops to her pistol, but a strong forearm yanks her back around her middle. 

She gets thrown to the hard wooden floor and a boot stomps down in the center of her chest and all of a sudden she’s staring down the barrel of a rifle. 

“Don’t hurt her, Jacob!”

“She’s fine. Christ, calm down.”

“Calm? You want me to be calm?” John steps down from the stage, coming forward with a small woman trailing along behind him. Rook doesn’t recognize her. “We’ve never had the police try something like that before. Things are escalating, and you want me to be calm.” He sighs, scratching his cheek where his beard cuts off. “Get off her.”

“John—“

“I can handle her.” He steps into Jacob’s space, a hand on his brother’s gun to shove it out of the way. “She’s  _ mine _ .”

Jacob laughs under his breath and backs off. Pressing down on her chest hard enough to stop her breath. She coughs. Rolling onto her side with her eyes clenched shut. The floor creaks beneath John’s weight as he crouches down. He lays a hand on her spine, rubbing circles. 

“I never thought I’d see you again, my dear. Out of everyone who has ever taken time out of my life...well I regret my days with you the least. If that makes any sense. I just...I had a feeling that you liked me for something else other than my wealth or body.”

“I did.” She has to stop her voice from catching in her throat. “That’s why it hurt so much when you up and left.”

“I know. I know that, and I’m sorry. But it’s okay now.” He reaches out and tips her chin up. “You’re here now and you’re never going to leave me again.” 


	89. Magic au

John is like her. 

He is like her and trying so hard to hide it. She can’t wrap her head around why anyone would ever want to hide such a gift. She wants to ask him, she wants to run to his siblings and tell them that he’s bound to break himself if he doesn’t accept who he is. 

She isn’t aware that his brothers are like her too. 

Rook sneaks into John’s house in the dead of night, a bag slung around her shoulder full of things to show him, and she stops dead in her tracks when she walks into his living room and finds him sitting on his couch glaring at her. 

She pauses, mouth opening and closing until finally she finds her voice. “How’d you know I was coming?”

“You’re hard to miss, deputy. And you don’t give my men the credit they deserve.” He's quiet for a moment, head resting on his open palm. “You’re not here to kill me.”

“No.”

He sighs. Rubbing his eyes. “Take a seat then. Perhaps you want to confess?” He smiles at that, knowing before she even answers that it’s a tired, overdone joke.

Carefully she moves around him, going to sit in front of the fire on the rug. She eyes him as she opens her bag up. Waiting for him to join her. 

“Uh, deputy?” 

“Hm?” 

She lays out a couple wands a few leather books worn by age. As well as an energy drink and a bottle of water. 

“Got any food in the house? Something high in fat or carbs?”

“What?”

She groans, “c’mon, Seed, I’m trying to be nice and I’m not sitting here all day while you flounder.” She waves her hand impatiently at him. “Food. Now.” 

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but he does stand up and make his way over to where she assumes his kitchen is. 

She doesn’t miss the way he stares at her unpacked items for just a tad too long. He looks pale. 

John wanders back with a loaf of bread and a granola bar. She stares at him for a beat, watching as he folds up his legs to sit in front of her. 

“What?” He snaps, squirming under her gaze, “I haven’t had the chance to restock the cupboards. It’s all I have, really.”

“Fine. It’ll do.” 

He leans back on his palms. “For what?” He purses his lips, kicking at one of the wands, “actually don’t answer that. You...you’re one of us.”

She frowns. Tilting her head to watch him closely. It’s not necessarily easy to spot another magic user. Whether a wizard, warlock or a sorcerer. No outward signs unless you see them casting spells. And it’s no different for John. His apparent knowledge though...it’s damning enough.

“You’re a wizard,” she finally murmurs, just to confirm her suspicions. 

“I am.” 

She laughs, “yeah thought so. But your family too? All this time? Why haven’t I noticed it?”

He snarls at her, leaning forward to jab a finger in her face. “Perhaps because ever since you got here you’ve decided to pester me and only me? I don’t know, just a thought.”

She sighs, “so if your family are magic users...then why aren’t you using it too?”

“I don’t practice, deputy. Nor do I want to.”

“Why not?”

“My parents, the Duncan’s that is, they never appreciated it. Always said it was unholy and demonic.”

Rook wants to laugh. She’s heard a lot of crap about magic, but to condemn a little boy when he can’t even control the gift he’s been given...it's laughably irresponsible.

She feels her John all of a sudden. She wants to pull him near and tell him that she’ll wash away those years of pain and torment. That’s just not realistic though. So she’ll do what she can and hope that his family can take over the rest. 

John breaks the silence. “That’s what you’re here to do then? To show me how to use my magic?”

“I am, yeah.”

“ _ Why?”  _

“Because I haven’t seen another wizard in so damn long. I haven’t been able to talk about this stuff to anyone! It’s driving me mad.”

John’s quiet for a minute, clearly thinking as his clock ticks on. “Okay. I’ll indulge you. Go ahead, talk. Tell me all about your magic, deputy.” 

She sighs, leaning over to pluck out a wand. She waves it in the air, catching his attention. “Do you have one, or a staff?”

“Yeah, a few. Jacob gave me some for Christmas a few years ago. They’re collecting dust in the attic.” 

She eyes him curiously. “You  _ want _ to learn.”

“Rook—“

“You could’ve kicked me out. Could’ve screamed for your men. Could’ve killed me. Instead you’re letting me teach you.” She laughs, suddenly giddy to know all about the kind of magic he’ll be capable of. 

“Do you have a familiar?”

He frowns at the change of subject. But he answers anyway. “I used to. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“What was he?”

“An owl. Yours?”

Her lips twist as he twirls the wand in her hand. “Cat. Lame, kinda predictable too, I know.” She pries open the cover of a book, sliding it over to him. 

“Not at all. I love cats. You should hear Jacob complain that his isn’t a dog or some kind of wolf.” 

She laughs at that, and he even manages a small smile. He’s just as happy about these turn of events as she is. It’s almost cute. 

Rook, call her prideful, just wants to show off. And so she spends the next hour doing exactly that. She moves forks and spoons, one time even his couch, with her mind alone. Laughing at the way he gapes. He tells her that it’s been a while since he’s seen any magic at all, that even his brothers have learned by now not to perform around him. 

“It’s not a sin,” she mumbles, reaching out to touch his forearm. “You need to embrace it. Fighting your instincts can be...quite painful.”

“I know that. I just…” he sighs, staring at her with vulnerability shining in his eyes. “I’m scared. It’s been so long.” He scratches at his chin, gazing at her through his lashes. “But you’ll teach me?” 

“That’s the plan.” 

John is a slow learner and impatient to boot. She comes to visit him when she can, just do see if he’s making progress, and he’s always complaining. Tired too. He isn’t eating enough. Not replenishing his stamina with food and sleep. But he’s a stubborn man and she can’t babysit him. That’s what he has his siblings for. 

Except she hadn’t anticipated for them all to appear at once. 

Rook slips inside his living room, a bag slung around her shoulder, and her blood goes cold at the sight in front of her. 

“Hey, uh, Joseph…where’s John?”

“Upstairs in his bedroom. Jacob’s treating him.” Joseph is sitting down, a myriad of books in front of him on the coffee table.  _ Her  _ books, the ones she lent John. 

“He’s not doing too well,” Joseph admits lowly. But she detects a hint of anger behind his mask. “He passed out at my sermon, while he was speaking. Just,” Joseph whistles softly, motioning with his hand, “keeled over right in front of everyone. Nearly gave Jacob a heart attack.”

“H-how is he now?” 

“Mildly better. Though using magic when you haven’t done so in years will do that to someone.” 

Rook’s face pales. She goes tense, eyes darting around to find an exit. Of course she could go back through the way she came, but she wouldn’t put it past Joseph to have set this all up. Give her an easy entrance just to have John’s guards pile up in the front yard to stop her. 

She can’t run, but she desperately wants to. She’s a grown woman but she wants to run far away from her problems. 

“Joseph…”

“I’m not mad at you. I can’t really be angry, that wouldn’t be fair. Not when you were only trying to help.”

She nods quickly. “Yeah. I was.”

He stands up, motioning for her to follow him up the stairs. 

“He isn’t as strong as a wizard his age should be, but he’s learning. For the first time in so long he’s actually embracing who he is.” Joseph glances over his shoulder as they reach the top. “I’m not sure how you did it.”

Rook is silent. She’s not too sure how she did either. 

Joseph takes her over to John’s bedroom, knocking once before pushing open the door. He walks in and she trails along after him, her head dipped down slightly. 

She  _ feels  _ Jacob’s eyes on her. 

“What is she doing here?”

“Jacob.” 

Her head perks up at John’s voice. Weak and strained as it is. Carefully she meanders over to the edge of the bed, hands gripping his ankles through the thick blankets piled on his body. 

She wants to tell him what an idiot he was. Hadn’t she told him to take care of himself? She can’t bring herself to do it though. Not when he’s smiling at her like he hadn’t fainted hours prior. 

“What’re you so happy about?” She questions suspiciously, moving to perch on the mattress.

“I moved that fork. And,” he squirms to sit up further in the bed. “I managed to summon my familiar.” 

She can’t help but laugh, even with the death glare Jacob is pointing her way. “That’s wonderful, John. Have you tried using your wand?”

He clears his throat and glances away. “I was planning on doing that today…”

“Then he passed out,” Jacob intervenes. “You could’ve died, y’know?”

John snorts, “that’s a bit extreme.” He stretches then, pulling at the drawer of his bedside table. He scrounges around to grab a journal and wand. “Here, sit with me, Rook.”

“I...am?”

“No, closer.” He pats the other side of the bed. “Next to me.”

She swallows nervously. Shifting to stand as she scratches the back of her neck. “I don’t think you should be worrying yourself with magic right now. You need to rest.”

“I know. I know.” He rolls his eyes and beckons her to sit again. This time she does, despite her better judgment. 

He scoots closer to her, handing off the wand and shoving a bag of runes towards her. “Just...show me what you can do.” 

She frowns, plucking up the bag and shaking it. They’re like little tiny rocks with symbols painted over them. They’re...strong. She can’t describe the power that flows through her fingertips but it’s there. Making her shake . 

“Runes, huh?”

He nods animatedly. “Yes! Our ancestors used them before the integration of wands and staffs.” 

She dumps it into the palm of her hand, jerking her head towards the notebook he had clutched in his hand. “What’s in there?”

“Runic alphabet. Spells. That sort of thing.” 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the hint of a smile on Jacob’s face. Despite whatever anger he’s still feeling, he likes this side of his baby brother. The one that doesn’t cringe away from his magic because of the abuse he’s endured. 

She’s no therapist. And lord knows John probably needs one, but she did something. She tapped into a part of his head when he was at his most vulnerable and she pulled him back from the edge. 

Rook can still see the tension in Jacob’s eyes though, and so with bated breath she mutters a spell, quiet enough that the other two adept magic users won’t hear, and aims the wand at Jacob.

In an instant he's gone to pounce on her. Ready to tear her throat out for whatever she did. But that’s the thing.

“Cheering charm,” she explains when John watches on in wonder as Jacob snaps into relaxation. “Or, here, watch this.” She scans his room for something and lands on a pair of socks left on the floor. “Evanesco.” And just like that they’re gone. 

John laughs like a child at the show. It’s a sweet sound. 

“Maybe I can show you how to use runes. I’m a good teacher.”

She hums, placing the wand down. “I don’t doubt it. Just don’t get yourself sick.” She leaves off on that. Leaning down to pat his cheek affectionately. He presses into her palm, sighting as his eyes shut. 

“You’ll come back then? I’m getting better.”

“Yeah.” She keeps her head down as she stands up. Avoiding Jacob and Joseph as she skirts around them. She doesn’t want to hear anything they have to say. John’s doing great. Better than she’s ever seen him before. 

And it’s all because of her. 


	90. Broken Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asexual John who has sex only because he’s desperate for a connection with someone. He thinks his lack of interest in sex is because something is wrong with him.

“I heard you were wild one time. People said that you used to party. That you used to  _ fuck.” _

Rook has no right to say those things about him, no right at all, not when her own soul is bathed in sin. If Joseph wasn’t here with him, hovering on the edge of the lake with the rest of his family, he would hold her underwater and watch her struggle. He would bask in the way her eyes would bulge and how her limbs would flail frantically as her lungs screamed for air. Then, just before she passed out he would pull her out of the water only to dunk her back in again. 

But like he said, his family is watching, and he isn’t in the mood to be called immature or childish or any of the other insults they’re so good at labeling him with.

Instead John sinks his nails deeper into her shoulders, smiling as she hisses through the pain. “I’ve repented, deputy, you can’t say the same.” He gives her a little shake and she almost loses her footing in the water. “You have no room to judge me.”

Rook scoffs, and once again John regrets having to do this on such short notice. If he had more time he would’ve been able to pump the water full of bliss. He’s paying for that now.

“Yeah, sure,” she drawls lazily, “you’ve repented for what you did before Eden’s Gate. When you were a crazy college kid, but what about now? C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t have a nice roll in the sheets every now and again.”

John swallows, his adams apple bobbing behind the thin skin of his throat as his eyes dart downward. “What do you know about my love life?”

“Love life?! Is that what you call it?” She cackles and John feels his cheeks go red under the watchful eyes of his siblings.

He so desperately wants to tell her of his sins, his greed and want to connect. How he’s struggled with people for as long as he can remember. He’s always wanted to love, to be swept off his feet and taken care of. 

It’s easy to cast the first stone, to look at people and tell them what they're doing wrong. But she doesnt know how awful all that sex was, that he was never into the people he brought home. That he had to use all sorts of pills and supplements just to feel anything at all.

She doesn't know the half of it, no one does. John is tempted to tell her, to reveal his inner demons and ask her if she knows why he’s broken, but he’s afraid to take that risk. He doesn’t want to be made fun of.

John tsk’s at her, offering up a cynical smile to properly hide behind. “Quiet,” he commands, “and for once in your life listen to me. It might do you some good.”

She responds by muttering something he ignores, and he holds out his hand towards his family, silently asking for the book of Joseph. Faith rushes forward to hand it off to him. He doesn't look her way nor does he thank her, too focused on Rook’s cocky smile. As if she sees right inside his head into his darkest thoughts.

He flips open the book, thumb digging into the pages. “Deputy, I welcome you into the gates of Eden, as your Baptist I promise to guide you through these struggles and assist you in confessing your sins. You shall be cleansed and born anew,” he hands the book back to Faith, this time offering a smile as she walks back to the rest of his family. He turns back to Rook, whispering something so softly only they can hear. “It’ll do you well to actually do as I ask this time, deputy.” 

He eases her down slowly, one hand planted on the center of her back and the other on her sternum. Surprisingly she goes down easy, eyes clenching tight and arms limp at her sides.

He holds her under until Joseph clears his throat and he realizes that she’s starting to squirm. With a huff he drags her to the surface, drawing a cross on her forehead with his thumb, ruining the drops of water that cling to her skin. 

“Am I supposed to feel different?” She peeks an eye open at him, shaking her head to clear her vision. 

“Not quite. That will come after your atonement. I look forward to that.”

Rook laughs once more, “yeah, I bet you do. Tell me, John, are there cameras down in your little torture room? Do people see what you get up to whenever you have a pretty little thing tied up and at your mercy?”

John just about snaps, that all familiar feeling of rage rushing to the surface as he glares at her petty smirk. As stupid as it may be, he feels his anger shift towards his brother. To Joseph. The one who wrote that stupid fucking book. He didn’t even ask before he told everyone in Hope county what John had done—all the sex and drugs—making the people in the county, making Rook, think he was some sort of whore. Like he  _ wanted _ all that sex, as if he craved it, as if he couldn’t live without the press of another, hot sweaty body against his own. 

He’s about to push her under again, wash her mind clean of all her dirty thoughts. Jacob steps forward, surprisingly, a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“We’d all rather you didn’t kill her, Johnny.”

The slight level of humor in his voice makes John crack a smile as he glances over his shoulder at his brother. “Yeah? She’s a pain in the ass.” He whirls around with Rook in tow, shoving her into Jacob’s arms. “Take her then. She’ll ride with you.”

.0.

John is more than aware that he’s staring at her like he wants to kill her. He’s trying not to be too unnerving, that doesn’t get people talking, but he’s gone too far now. What with the way he ripped her shirt open down to her navel. He apologized for that, even kissed away the blood from the knife he used when he nicked her skin. 

And all she can do is clench her fists behind her back and grit her teeth. 

“You’re difficult,” he eventually says, standing up straight with hands on his hips. “Most people at least give me something by now.”

John worries his bottom lip between his teeth, mouth opening to say something more. To approach this from a different angle, but the squealing of the metal door behind him causes him to stop short. He turns, eyebrow raised curiously, and meets his brother's steely gaze. 

He hears Rook release an uneasy breath. As luck would have it his sibling is here to stop him once more. 

“Ahh, Joseph. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” 

“It’s been three days since you had Rook.” No hello, no pleasantry of any kind. Just blunt and upset. 

Fuck him. 

John just nods though, thumbs tucked into his pockets. “Right. Right, yeah.” He glances over his shoulder at Rook, all his soothing confidence suddenly melting away as he watches her anger bubble to the surface once more. He hasn’t made any progress at all. 

“Do you need help?”

“What?” John pivots back around, frowning as he does so. “No. No, of course not. I’m close.”

A lie. She hasn’t said anything he can use, nothing he would consider a confession of sin anyway. 

“How close?”

“I—“

“Don’t lie to me, John. I hate that.” He pauses, lets his words sink in as he pleads with his eyes. “I’m your brother, I thought…” Joseph shakes his head, wiping away his thoughts. “I’d rather the truth, even if you don’t think I want to hear it. Please.”

John swallows, shifting on his feet nervously as he regards his older brother. “I’m not...she hasn’t said much. I’m not sure how much longer it will take.”

Joseph seems content with that answer, he isn’t angry or disappointed. Just a sort of quiet understanding that passes between them before he leaves without saying another word. 

It’s a while before John speaks again. He’s lost in his own thoughts. Sort of worried about what she’ll say if he shares what’s bouncing around inside his head, but at the same time he’s so numb that he can’t bring himself to care. 

He's not facing her when he speaks, still staring at the door where Joseph left. “Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to have someone in your life who cares _.”  _ He glances over to her, “have you ever had someone like that?”

“I...John, your brother—“

“Yes. He loves me. So does Jacob. That’s not what I’m talking about. It does add salt to the wound though.” 

She stares at him for a while, head tilting to the side. 

John waits a beat. She isn’t going to ask any questions. That makes him angrier than it should. He tosses the workbench over and stalks towards her, jabbing a finger in her face. “You will confess. You will tell me everything.”

She laughs. Despite everything she fucking laughs in his face. “Bring it on,  _ Johnny _ .”

.0.

“Let me ask you a question,” John murmurs, knees digging into Rook’s ribs as she squirms under him. Trying to escape his hold and the inked needle that’s ready to meet her skin. He turns the gun on, soothed by the buzzing in his hand. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

She makes a startled noise, jumping as the needle touches the area above her breast. “Wha—now? You wanna do this now?”

He shrugs, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes as he leans closer. “Why not? We’ve got time.”

She laughs breathily, teeth grinding together at the pain. “Alright. Sure, I’ll bite.” She shifts on her back, fingers going to dig into his thighs. “I think it was...maybe a year ago? That’s when I had my last boyfriend.”

“No one night stands?”

“Not really my thing.” She eyes him wearily, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn't, she considers takeing a chance to drive the conversation forward. He keeps doing this, speaking about strangely intimate things that she can’t decipher. There must be something he wants to talk about or he wouldn't have brought it up again.

She wonders how difficult it’ll be to draw it out of him. 

“Then how do you…” his words die out, voice echoing in the small abandoned church around them. He clears his throat and for a few minutes there's only the tiny buzzing coming from his tattoo gun. Rook even gets used to the pain, but the wooden floor isn't doing too well for her back. “How do you connect with someone?”

For a while she's stunned into shocked silence. She stares up at him as he pointedly avoids her eyes. 

“Well I certainly don't just hop into bed with them…”

“And I do?” He snaps, glaring at her, and his touch becomes suddenly painful as he grinds his hand down into the words he’s writing into her chest. 

“Sounds like that's what you're insinuating.”

  
He sighs, all weary and drawn out, as if she's the one who brought up the conversation in the first place. She carefully removes one of her hands off his thigh to touch his wrist. Just brushes her fingers across his skin as she gathers her thoughts. 

She looks at him, blinking slowly. He wants her to ask him. He wants her to figure out what’s going on behind the scenes. And suddenly it all clicks, she opens her mouth in a silent gasp as she murmurs out a soft, “did you ever enjoy sex, John?”

He's quiet. Biting his lower lip. “...Isn't that the point? Aren't I supposed to enjoy it? It's so utterly intimate, a connection of two people that now have this amazing bond…” he sucks in a deep breath. Slowly blinking at her as she gazes back at him. 

For a lawyer, he’s so telling right now. An open book. 

He’s doing it on purpose. 

How long has it been since someone had  _ seen  _ John? 

“So which way do you swing?” Rook asks, hand dropping from his wrist to tap his thigh, distracting herself from the pain once more as he gets back to work. He’s near finished. 

“Uh, both? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

If Rook were any younger she’d tell him that he’s bisexual, maybe even pansexual, then call it a day. But she knows better. Poor thing just doesn’t know it himself. 

“Don’t you think you’re...y’know, uh...asexual? I mean…” she hesitates as John clicks the gun off, frowning at her. “Have you ever considered it?” 

“Asexual? That’s...no…no, that’s not right.”

Rook laughs, her chest stings. “Why wouldn’t it be right? What does that even mean? You don’t like sex, John, you aren’t interested in it in the slightest.” She gets up on her elbows, reaching up to cup his cheek. Her thumb swiping back and forth as his face falls. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfectly normal.”

“You’re just saying that.” His eyes go cold, a hand coming up to clench her shoulder roughly. 

“I’m not! I swear.”

They stare at each other for a while. And she guesses that he’s looking for something. Whatever it is, he must find it because his voice goes suspiciously soft. 

“You really believe that?”

“Yes. Of course, It’s just that— _ umph.”  _

John practically slams into her. The tattoo gun clattering away on the floor as he wraps her up in a hug. He’s crushing her, his weight now distributed more heavily on her thighs and stomach. She takes it though, reciprocates by tugging him in closer with a soothing hand on his back. 

And in return his fingers curl up in her shirt. 

“For the longest time I thought I was broken. That something was wrong with me and no one would understand.” His words are muffled from the way he’s got his head buried in her neck. “But you said—“ now he pulls back to stare at her intently, “you said it’s normal.” He laughs maniacally. “Imagine that! God!” 

She touches his cheek again. Nodding along with his words as he cracks and falls apart. Years of emotions tumbling out of him. She loses herself in the way his mumbles repeated ‘thank yous,’ and for the first time she finds herself  _ wanting  _ to stay by his side. 

And so she does. At least for the night. She’ll figure out what she’s going to do come morning, but lord knows that she’ll take his secret to the grave. 


	91. I’m Just A Little Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An au where Eden's Gate is more peaceful but John Seed is just as he was in canon. A violent, crazy monster. Only now his family doesn’t share his views.

His brothers look at him like he’s broken. Nothing more than a toy with a loose screw that needs to be fixed. Jacob blames himself for how John turned out, Joseph blames God for not sending an angel to watch over him. 

John isn’t sure who he blames. Certainly not his brothers. He’s never given it much thought, but if he had to choose he’d probably pin it on the Duncan’s. The environment they provided wasn’t necessarily as bad as his actual parents, but it was different. A different kind of pain and suffering that latched onto his very soul. 

They made him angry, they took their wrath— their sin—and made it his own. 

Maybe it was the drugs that his mother took throughout the years that made him bad. Or the hookers that flitted through his house like ghosts, those nameless women that sometimes tucked him in at night, curling his hair behind his ear and telling him that they’ve got a kid at home that they can’t see tonight, so they can they read a story to him before they go fuck his father? 

His parents were rich, and as John soon learned when he himself inherited their fortune, where money is found corruption soon follows. God, the list of crimes in his parents’ name would make a lesser lawyer's head spin. 

Solicitings and  _ receiving _ bribes.

Extortion.

Embezzlement.

Obstructing justice.

It goes on and on. 

They surrounded John with crime and expected him to grow up a picture perfect man. Or perhaps they knew all along what kind of monster they were making. 

John doesn’t dare tell his brothers about all of that though. He has a feeling they’d send him to a therapist to get his head poked at, and lord knows that's the last thing he needs. What he  _ needs  _ is to be here, in Hope county with his brothers and sister. Preaching and spreading the word of Joseph. Of the Collapse. 

The world is ending and Joseph is their savior—if people don’t listen...John doesn’t want to think about that right now. 

His parents taught him how to say yes. Among other things that intertwined in his personality. The charisma and manipulation, the wrath, how to break someone down until they’re on their knees begging for salvation. 

John tells Joseph all about it until he’s blue in the face. 

His brother smiles softly at him, a hand settling on his shoulder gently. “Brother, we can't use those methods.” His lips tighten and twitch. “God didn’t lead us here to punish those around us. We can’t hurt anyone, that's not what Eden’s Gate is about. We help lost and tortured souls, not create them.”

Joseph walks away after that, making sure John understands. He does. He gets it. That doesn’t mean he listens. Joseph has his sweet sermons, Faith hosts parties teeming with gorgeous local flowers and takes everyone on nature trails through the Henbane to clear their heads, and Jacob rehabilitates the old veterans that have been thrown away by the country they served. 

They help people. 

John wants to be like that. More importantly, he wants to be known for something. He wants to be a  _ Baptist _ . Joseph thinks it’s a lovely idea. He’s happy that John has finally found something that he’s passionate about. 

First things first, he needs a spot to perform baptisms at. Someplace wide open and gorgeous, surrounded by trees and hills. A little oasis on God's green earth. 

He finds the perfect spot in a matter of hours. Jacob is with him, drumming his hand on the dash and fiddling with the radio. They’re deep in the Valley—staring at nothing but flat land—when Jacob points out across John, scarred forearm blocking his view—and says “how ‘bout there?”

It’s great except for one thing. 

It’s private property. 

John and Jacob circle the lake, making sure it’s not too deep, “don’t want anyone to drown, Johnny,” when someone shouts at them. It’s not an angry shout, more confused than anything. But John’s hackles raise immediately. 

Stupid that John didn’t realize the barn and silo located only less than a mile away. 

“Don’t think I’ve seen you two around before. I’m Chris.” The man is old, older than Jacob even, maybe 57, if John had to hazard a guess. He’s exactly what John expects from a Montana man. He's wearing a stout hat with dirt stained clothes. His face is wrinkled, sun-tanned in a way John could never be. This old man shouldn’t pose a threat at all, but right now he’s standing between Eden’s Gates’ baptisms. 

Without a Baptist to do his job, a church is nothing at all. No confession or atonement. No clean souls. Without him this whole dream of Joseph’s will crumble. 

“No, sir,” Jacob says, stepping forward to shake his hand. “I don’t think you have. We only just moved here.” 

“Ahh, you’re with that church caravan.”

Jacob smiles, not realizing how John winces. Curling in on himself. “My name’s Jacob and this is John,” he hooks a thumb over his shoulder where John lingers, “my brother. We run that church caravan actually. We’re looking for a place to perform baptisms.”

John swallows, watching how Chris frowns, hands resting on his hips as he thinks. John needs to step in. Jacob isn’t handling this right. He’s going to blow their chances. How can he not see that? 

They don’t have a strip of land to live on, the only thing keeping them afloat being the philanthropy of the pastors scattered around the county. But that’s not permanent. They  _ need  _ this. 

“Sir, I can’t say there’s many people in this county who are willing to give up their land, and to a bunch of strangers no less. And I understand, truely, but imagine all the people you’d be helping.” 

Chris’ brows furrow, mouth opening. John cuts him off. 

“That’s okay,” he holds up his hand, smiling benignly, “I can give you quite the settlement on your farm. You’ll be taken care of for the rest of your life, I assure you.” That, at least, was true, John has the money and resources to send this man anywhere in the world. “Unless you want to make this unpleasant for the both of us?”

John takes a step forward, moving past Jacob to get closer to Chris. John isn’t tall—his brothers certainly make him feel short—but he looms over Chris. It makes him feel drunk with power. 

“Half a million, that’s my first offer. Every day you don’t tell me  _ yes,  _ it goes down. When it reaches zero,” John laughs, smile splitting his lips wide, “well let’s just say you don’t want to reach that point.” 

“John…” Jacob lays a hand on his shoulder. Tugging him away. Nearly sending him sprawling on the ground. “C’mere for a minute.” He holds a finger up to Chris, who doesn’t waste any time retreating back to his house. 

What are you doing, John?” 

“I—what am  _ I  _ doing? Really?”

Jacob stares at him. Angry. Oh. He’s being serious. 

“I’m getting us land. We can’t do baptisms in a bathtub.” 

“But if we have to we will. We’ll buy a damn kiddie pool if that’s what has to be done.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the short strands. “I mean what the fuck was that?”

“I just—“

“Shut up,” Jacob hisses, cuffing him around the head, “get in the car, we’ll talk when we’re home. I ain’t fighting on this man’s lawn.” He practically wrenches the car door off its hinges. “Joseph and Faith should be here for this. They need to know what shit you just pulled.”

He snorts softly. “I didn’t  _ pull  _ anything.” He says it too quiet for Jacob to hear, which leaves a pang of disappointment aching in his chest. Unused adrenaline is coursing through his veins, he was hoping to blow off steam. 

His family isn’t the type of kick and scream though. Not like him. They won’t fight like he wants them to. 

Joseph is...displeased. 

He actually cries in the middle of his lecture. The frustration reaches a building point and he just breaks. He pauses in his speech, hands shaking as tears roll down his cheeks. 

It hurts to watch Joseph cry. John’s whole mind comes to a screeching halt as he stares at him crying. John gets on his feet, stumbling over to his brother to embrace him. 

“What did I do wrong?” Joseph sobs. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing. I’m okay, Joseph.”

He shakes his head. All of it unspoken. No. You’re not okay. You’re broken. Sick. 

John suddenly feels unclean. 

“Will you baptize me?” He wrenches Joseph away, holding him at arm's length. “Please?”

Joseph doesn’t do confession and baptisms the way John wants him to. He’s gentle and understanding. He isn’t taking John’s advice. Though he does let John say yes when the time comes, that’s nice. 

John doesn’t ask if Joseph will cut his sin, wrath, on him. He does it himself. When it’s nighttime and he gets a moment to himself. He slips out of the house pastor Jerome has lent them, stepping over the countless bodies of their flock as he goes. The sight makes him angry. 

There’s no need for these people to sleep outdoors on the ground. For him and his family to live on top of each other when John can easily acquire enough land for thousands to stay. 

He pushes down that anger, saves it for later. 

He carves wrath on his thigh. Someplace his family won’t see. One day he’s going to need to find someone to help him reach his back—he doesn’t want to cut into the tattoos on his front.

It’s months later, when John finally is able to convince his siblings to let him start building their bunkers, that he starts taking confessions formally. No longer having to do them in another man’s church. He went and took father Brian’s when he mentioned moving out to California. 

He’d rather do it in his bunker, in the confession room he’s working on, but it isn’t done yet. For now he does it in their new church, when Joseph’s sermons come to an end. 

The rumors start immediately. 

His confessions aren’t as tame as they should be. He’s too violent. Not a Christian man like everyone wants. But his confessions will never truly be soft and sweet. They can’t be nice, that’s not the point. It’s all about pain. 

Maybe one day Joseph will understand, but for now, Joseph yells at him like he’s nothing more than a child. 

Lovely. 

“People are coming to me everyday, John, saying how they’re scared of you. That they don’t want anything to do with Eden’s Gate because of what your confessions have turned into.”

John scowls, sinking further back into the couch. 

“You can mark yourself up, I won’t stop you from doing that even if it pains me to see those scars, but unless someone else specifically says they want a new tattoo—that they want that tattoo cut off of their body—then you can’t do it! It’s a crime, Johnny. You’re going to destroy everything we’ve built.”

Joseph pauses to breathe, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. “I’ve talked to a friend of mine, pastor Jerome, he’s the head of the church in Falls End.”

John waves his head, “yes, we’ve met before.”

“He’s a good man. I’ve talked to him about you—“

John groans, head tipping back. 

“Don’t act that way,” Joseph snaps, “it’s not like I divulged all your secrets. People are leaving Eden’s Gate in droves to join his flock. They talk, John, the whole county is aware of your methods.”

John glares at his older brother, biting his bottom lip. “So you want me to talk to him?”

“Yes. Now, in fact. I told him you’re free today.”

Of course he did. Fucking hell.

.0.

Pastor Jerome is a nice man. The kind of guy Joseph would get along with very well, and so he isn’t too surprised that they hit it off. Him and John don’t mix too well at first though. 

But maybe that’s John’s fault. Standoffish almost as soon as Jerome opens the doors of his church. He’s angry only because he expects judgment to pass through Jerome’s eyes and into John’s very soul. 

Instead he’s greeted with a very different front. 

And together, slowly, they begin to make progress. John starts to leave his revolver at home when he goes to perform his baptisms. He doesn’t call the few neighbors around his home and threaten them for their land like he had before. He attends more events scattered throughout the county, standing by his siblings’ side with a smile on his face. Showing a new mask to Hope county. 

Changing his confessions turns out to be the most difficult thing. Jerome tells him that people are still scared of him. Even if he’s becoming a better man, it’s not enough. It never is.

The whole county is plagued with greed. Always asking and never giving back. Not even meeting him halfway. So he keeps his blades and tattoo gun, and of course, the ropes he uses to bind those that struggle. 

It’s at dinner, two months later, that John has a breakthrough. An honest to god, I’ve seen the light, sort of moment. When he realizes that all of them, Jerome, Joseph, all the residents of Hope county, they’re all wrong. What he’s doing—spreading the power of yes—it’s all for the good of everyone. He’s  _ saving _ people. 

He’ll prove it. He’ll show them all, and he intends to do that through Joey Hudson. 

“She’s a new face in the crowd, though Jacob swears he’s seen her at Lamb of God for the past couple of times.” 

At that Jacob grunts around a mouthful of food, eyes flitting to John’s briefly. 

“I was able to stop her to talk, I always like to make guests feel welcome,” Joseph says, as if he has to explain at all. John is well aware of his brother’s philanthropic personality. “She was a soldier, discharged a few weeks ago and decided to come home.”

John raises an eyebrow, poking his fork at a piece of dry chicken. “She grew up here?”

“Yes, but she hasn’t really kept in contact with anyone. She said it’s one of the few things she regrets.”

John bites his lip. He can change that. Show her that there’s no reason to regret not talking to the heathens in Hope. They would’ve filled her head with dirty lies about him. 

His hand clenches painfully tight around his silverware. “I suppose her and Jacob got along well? What with the military background.”

Jacob shrugs, “yeah, ‘bout as well as me and Armstrong, they’re both nice.” 

“You should meet her.” Joseph smiles at John, eyes lighting up at the prospect of another opportunity of friendship. Joseph still worries about him, the same as Jacob does, he hears them talk at night. 

They want to see him make a connection. 

Oh this couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. 

But John feigns disinterest. Nodding briskly as he shoves food into his mouth and shrugs. “If that’s what you want, Joseph.”

“I’m not going to force you...do what you want.”

“No. It’s fine, I’ll go.” He takes a sip of wine, rolling the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing. “I haven’t heard a sermon of yours in a while. And I like showing your flock who I am.” He looks down, smiling a real, genuine smile. “I want them to know me.”

Joseph brightens at his words, “I want that too.”

.0.

“John Seed, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Joey.” 

It’s all she says, taking his hand and barely sparing him a glance. That’s okay. He’ll save her, there’s still hope. 

“How are you settling in?”

She shrugs, lips twisting into a grimace. “Honestly?”

He nods. 

“It’s shit.” She smiles at him with her teeth. “My mom and sisters won’t leave me alone, so I started going for walks to escape that mess. Found Joseph’s church. Gave me a place to think.”

“Did Joseph help with that?” Please say no. Please. Joseph’s not the one who will save you. 

Joey scoffs, shoulder relaxing just a tad. “Hardly. It was going well until he kept me for like an hour, talking my ear off. I like it better when I can blend it. It was easy doing that—his church was cramped that day.”

John nods, glad to hear that actually. More people have joined Eden’s Gate, so long as Joseph promises them that John doesn’t have to be the one to take their confessions. 

That’s fine. They can rot in hell.

“I’m his brother, you know? Might not want to talk bad about him in front of me.”

He’s just pulling her leg, he could care less. It’s her opinion on himself that he’s more concerned about.

“Yes, I know.” She sweeps her eyes over his body. “He mentioned you.” 

“Good things, I hope.”

“There about.” 

John desperately wants to draw her in, to tell her everything about his grand plan to save as many souls as possible. The Collapse is coming and he has a job to do. It’s Joseph’s fault that he doesn’t realize they need to snag the masses, they don’t have time to wait. 

And so John goes as quickly as possible. He makes friends with Joey, waves away her questions about what others are saying, and instead shows her a different man. 

When he’s confident that she won’t turn tail and run, she takes her down to his bunker. Shows off his confession room like a giddy child.

She laughs at his excitement and he feels a spark of joy bubble inside his chest. 

“You do tattoos?” 

Joey picks up the gun, flicking it on then off. “Down here?” She snorts, “it’s fucking filthy. That’s how you get an infection, Johnny.”

He shrugs, hooks his thumbs in his front pockets as he shoots her a smile. “No one has ever got an infection from me. Hand to god.” 

She hums. “Give me one?” 

“R-really?” 

This is working. It is. The stars are aligning just perfectly for him in ways they haven’t in years. 

“Yeah. Assuming I’ll get a discount.” 

He thinks she means it as a joke, she’s smiling at him at least, amusement flickering in her eyes. 

“It’s free. Take a seat.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t argue. It’d be stupid to when he’s handing out art like his. Though she’s probably thinking that he did his own tattoos himself. Only a handful. Some spots he couldn’t reach himself. 

He’s good at what he does. But the point of tonight is to help her confess. To cleanse her soul. 

Joey pulls up an office chair left in the corner, wheeling it around until she stops in front of him. She falls down with a sigh, motioning to her arm. “Here, okay?”

He taps his chin in mock thought. “I was thinking about your chest.”

“A chest piece? My deputy uniform won’t hide that very well.”

“I would hope not.” He takes his gun where she left it on his workbench. Moving to kneel down in front of her. “Tattoos are meant to be seen and appreciated.” He balances the gun on his knee, reaching over to grab a pair of gloves from a lock box on the floor. 

“Depends on if the tattoo is good.”

“This one will be special.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she unbuttons her shirt anyway, revealing her sternum. John eyes the strip of skin bared to him. Fingers itching to get to work. 

The number of people he's been able to get down here has been scarce lately. People have been avoiding him. 

“What do you mean by special?” 

He shuffles closer on his knees, tapping the unmoving needle against her skin. “You know I’m a religious man…”

“Mhm.”

“I’m a Baptist.”

“I know.”

He breathes out slowly. So far so good. 

“I take confessions of a person’s sins—“

“Stop.” She holds up her hand, eyes scrunching closed as her lips purse. “John, we spoke about this before. About the things I heard. How you force people, that you tear their skin from their body. You said that wasn’t true.”

He looks away. His gun is in a toolbox on his workbench. He can get to it if he has to. He can still succeed. 

“Joey…please.” He looks up at her, pleading with his eyes as much as he can. He doesn’t beg often. He has too much pride for that, but it softens her a little. Has her sighing heavily as she regards him. 

“What'll it say?”

“We need to find your sin first…”

“And then?”

He swallows thickly, very aware of how volatile this can come. People have fought him before. Idiots, all of them, they all eventually had their sin marked. “Then we purge it from your body. It’ll hurt, I won’t lie. But through that pain will come freedom.”

Joey blinks at him. Thinking things she isn’t sharing. It makes his blood rush in his ears. 

“Fine.”

He perks up. “Really. You’re saying yes?”

“Yeah.” She pauses, watches him carefully. “Yes. I am. I didn’t think…” she shakes her head, train of thought flying off the rails. “When I went to war I didn’t think I’d make it home. I think, almost dying, not imagining making it this old...it changed me. I found your brother's church because I thought religion could save me.”

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his chest starts to ache. “And?”

“It didn’t. At least not what your brother was selling. You though…” she leans forward, only inches away from him, “I think you can help me. We...we’re alike in some ways. We both crave pain and adrenaline, y’know.” She falls back in her chair, eyes meeting his in a challenge. “So yes. Mark me.”

John never smiled so wide before in his entire life. This one—the first willing person—will show Joseph how Eden’s Gate needs to change. His methods will gain them followers, power, everything they need to survive the Collapse. 

He’ll make them all see.


	92. Sugar Daddy (NSFW)

When Joseph asks where they met, she falters. Fork pausing halfway to her mouth as her brain fires off synapses that lead to nothing. Certainly no words that she can think of. 

John steps in—not like it's her fault, they hadn’t exactly rehearsed this. Even so, it goes unsaid that he values discretion in the face of his siblings. 

“She worked with me a long time ago. Right after college. When we were kids, really.” He laughs, easing the tension that had built up in the aftermath of her silence. “We only just recently connected again.”

Joseph looks at her,  _ regards _ her, suspiciously. It makes Rook wonder what kind of friends John’s had in the past for Joseph to watch her the way he is. 

It’s not her place to ask. But she may, later, just try and push to get him to tell her something concrete about himself. The man who’s literally paying for her...everything. It only seems fair. Seeing as John never gave her an exact time on when this will end. He’s enjoying her company as of late, she thinks this will be her longest project to date. 

Rook reaches out to take a sip of her wine, avoiding any more questions the best she can. It doesn’t work for long, no matter how much food she shoves past her lips. 

His siblings are a talkative, protective bunch. It’s unnerving. A warning would’ve been nice. 

“Did you always fancy my brother, Rook? I mean, to travel so far to see him again...he must mean something to you.”

Rook, for her part, doesn’t need to try very hard to put a blush on her cheeks. It’s laughably easy. John is conventionally handsome, she’s always thought so. From the moment she saw his profile picture and he sent a few photos of what’s below his belt. So the role she needs to play for him is one she does so gladly. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ve liked him for a while now. He means a lot to me. I just…” she shrugs and looks away, “I suppose I was intimidated by him at first. So I never took that last step.” She looks over at John and nearly jumps out of her skin when he reaches under the table to grab her thigh. Hand stealthily sneaking up past her dress where his finger rubs across her the front of her panties. “He left the, uh,” her brow furrows and John mouths the words for her, “um, our law firm a while ago, moved to…” she searches her brain and comes up empty. 

She snaps her fingers, playing at trying to remember the name of a city she’s never been told. 

“Rome,” John says with a smile. “It’s small. And a shit hole in Georgia. I don’t blame you for forgetting.” He sends a wink her way and his oldest brother, the big one who hasn’t done anything but glare daggers at her, actually chuckles. 

“Right.” She flushes. “He moved to Rome. Never told me why. We were always so close, I wanted to follow him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have faith at the time.” Her lips curl into a secretive smile shared between just her and John. “But he’s very convincing when he wants to be, and when I reached out...well he asked me to trust him.”

Joseph sighs airily. “That’s really beautiful, Rook. I’m over the moon that John has someone like you to make him happy.” 

Rook  _ almost  _ believes him, if not for the way the corners of his eyes wrinkle out of concern. 

His family stays longer than John had told her they would, though she has a feeling that has something to do with her. It’s...difficult, trying to act like her and John have an elaborate past that never happened. 

They get through it. Barely. 

She’s pulling on her coat, the one John has bought for her last winter, Monclear stretched on the inside. She googled it when she got home—$2,000. She’s watching out the window as his siblings drive off, when John comes up behind her. Laying a kiss on her neck as he brushes her hair aside. 

Her eyes shut. A groan slipping out past her lips.

“You really ought to think of living with me, my dear. You wouldn’t have to keep making the trip whenever I ask to see you.”

“It doesn’t bother me. I’m not the one paying for the plane fare. Which,” she holds up a finger, “is kinda unnecessary. A car would be fine.”

“A car ride would take longer.”

She laughs, letting herself be dragged back into him when John grabs her around the waist. “By like a couple hours.” She tips her head to the side, they’re close like this, and brushes her nose with his. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flutter at the contact. 

“I know. I know.” He spins her around to pull her into a tight embrace. “But I’d like to wake up to someone beside me.” He kisses her. Pulling back only minutely, “it’s been a while and I fear that I’ve forgotten what it feels like.”

She worries her lip between her teeth. Thinking. She’ll have to text her friends, email her professors, let them know that she won’t be coming home. 

It’s doable. 

“I can stay the night?” She finally offers. 

John nods, already pulling her along up the staircase. 

It’s strange, being in his bedroom and not expecting to be fucked. Her body is thrumming with energy, muscle memory coming back to her in a rush. 

She perches on the edge of his bed. Leg bouncing as he walks around the room, grabbing clothes and muttering under his breath. 

“You can always sleep naked,” he says as he glances over his shoulder, shooting her a smile, “I wouldn’t mind. But,” he holds up a deep, purple shirt, “the thought of you wearing my clothes is...quite appealing.” 

Rook laughs. “Ooh, do we have something of a kink, John?” 

He rolls her eyes. Tossing her the shirt which she just barely catches. “Lots, my dear, but you already know that.” 

She dresses slowly. Seated on her knees as she sinks into his mattress. Her body stretches as she pulls her dress over her head. Her bra comes next, tits bouncing free. John’s leaning against his dresser, watching her. 

Rook keeps her panties on, just to tease, and slips his t-shirt over her head. “Coming to bed?”

“Fuck.” He runs a hand over his face, dragging it down past his beard. “Give me a sec.” It’s hard for him to hide the way he limps to the bathroom because of the forming bulge in his pants, and she laughs again. 

He’s so  _ easy _ . 

Which begs the question of why he isn’t pounding into her right now. She hasn’t been doing this for long, she’s only had a handful of sugar daddies, but she knows the routine. John...seems to want more than just sex. It’s strange. 

But to a certain extent, she gets it. A man as handsome as him? He doesn’t need to pay anyone to get into bed with him. He wants a relationship, someone to hold him at night—lord knows he’s been trying to get her to stay with him for weeks now. He wants someone to  _ love  _ him. 

And he chose her. 

It makes her all giddy inside just thinking about it. 

“There you are,” Rook murmurs when he finally emerges from the bathroom. “Come on.” She pulls the blankets back, sliding beneath and waiting for him to do the same. 

When he snuggles near her, she can smell him, the faint tingle of mint and his skin—all bared except for a pair of sweatpants—is warm against hers. 

He sighs. Wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her near. She does the same. Holds him in ways she knows he yearns to be held. It’s...domestic in ways she never thought she’d have. 

“Am I getting paid extra for this?”

John chuckles, pulling her head down to lay on his chest. “Of course, Rook. But I feel like I should remind you that you’d be getting so much more if you lived with me.”

“And abandon my friends?”

She practically  _ feels  _ his eye roll. This is an old argument. “You don’t need them. You have  _ me.  _ What could they possibly offer you that I can’t?” 

Rook tips her head back and pecks the underside of his jaw. She doesn’t answer him, it’s no use fighting a lawyer. That, and she knows that whatever completely reasonable response she sends his way will only anger him. 

She’s said it all before. He just doesn’t care. He wants her undivided attention, that’s all he asked for when they began. Just one simple rule. Whenever he calls, she answers. 

He didn’t have to say what would happen if she didn’t—she could assume well enough by his profile. He’s had plenty of sugar babies in his life, but they’re nowhere to be found. Tossed to the side without so much as a second glance all because they put something, or someone, else over John when he asked otherwise. 

Rook snuggles into him. Petting over his chest. Over his scars. One day she’ll ask him to explain those too. 

And the guards outside his house. 

And the gunfire she sometimes hears in the distance. 

Maybe tomorrow. She has a feeling he’ll be more talkative and sweet now that she’s finally sleeping over. 

.0.

“You’re the one that asked  _ me  _ to stay. Now you’re kicking me out?”

John makes a frustrated noise as he dresses. Glancing at her only briefly. “I’m not kicking you out, Rook, but I got a call and I need to go to work.”

“Work,” she echos. He’s a lawyer and a Baptist. She has a feeling that shouldn’t require him getting up at 5 in the morning. “Can’t I stay here and wait for you to come back?”

He shakes his head. Running his hands through his hair to smooth it down. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll explain later, I promise.” He scoops up her discarded dress off the floor and hands it over to her. He pulls her in by the nape of her neck just as she grabs it, kissing her sweetly. “Things are very complicated right now—“

“What?”

“It’s not safe for you to be left on your own.”

Her fists curl in the blankets beneath her, glaring daggers as he turns his back to grab his shoes and pull them on. 

“I don’t even know what that means, John.”

She stands up slowly. Getting dressed with all the anger she can muster. He doesn’t answer her. More focused on his phone, tapping away to whoever woke them up. 

“John.”

Crickets. Nothing but silence that pounds against her skull. 

“John.”

God, what did she get herself into? Why didn’t she accept that man’s offer to go to Germany instead? It would’ve been so much simpler. Fuck an old, lonely bastard and get all her needs met. Not...this. 

Rook saunters over to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders. She nibbles on his neck, feeling the way his pulse hammers against his skin. 

“I need to go to work.” He rolls his shoulders back to knock her away. He isn’t very successful. “Stop that.”

“Just take me with you.”

“No.” A flicker of annoyance crosses his face and this time he does manage to get her off. “Stop being a brat, I have no problem putting you in your place.”

She laughs, trailing along behind him as they walk downstairs. Oh, she knows he doesn’t. He’s never punished her before, but he’s alluded to it many-a-times. 

He takes her hand, practically dragging her towards his hanger. He plants one last kiss on her lips. “I’ll order someone to fly you home. And I promise you one day I’ll tell you everything.”

Her lip twitches. She has a lot to say. Like how Hope county is starting to frighten her. She keeps her mouth shut though and climbs into the tiny plane, watching John jog away into a car of his own. 

.0.

Rook feels the bubbling urge to refuse. It’s in her nature, to not accept things so lavish when she can’t return the offer. She’ll have to get used to it eventually. 

Especially with John. New gifts nearly every time they meet. Hell, even on days they aren’t together, when he sends packages straight to her apartment. 

“You said you wanted chocolate.”

She snorts, legs swinging off the edge of the balcony. “I was thinking Hershey bars, maybe some little Dove chocolate bites.”

“Truffles from France are much sweeter. Much richer.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He scoots in closer, a hand settling on her thigh. “Why take my word when you can try them now?” He takes the box from her and opens the cling wrap with a surgeon's precision. 

He tips her chin up with his fingers, guiding the chocolate past her lips. The exterior is powdery, smearing across her tongue with a decadence that makes her groan. 

“Good?” 

God, he doesn’t even have to ask. But she hums and leans into his side anyhow. He always appreciates the show of gratitude she gives him. 

“C’mon, open the rest.”

Right. Right, he bought her a whole gift box of goodies. Too much in her opinion. He’s rich for a man so young. 

He helps her put on a matching necklace and watch, “Gucci,” he murmurs in her ear. And watches with rapt attention as they head back inside and she slips on the gown and heels he bought her. 

“Not gonna gloat about which brand these are?” 

He huffs a laugh, leaning with his elbows on his thighs as he bounces on the mattress with the shift of his weight. 

“St. John’s Collection, believe it or not.”

She’s never heard of it, but it makes her look like a Disney princess so she’s not complaining.

Rook spins around in the mirror, locking eyes with him. A smile gracing her lips. His hand is moving oh so subtly between his legs. Pushing down on his crotch. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Joseph…”

She cocks an eyebrow as he trails off, gaze sweeping down to her ass. 

“He wants you at a sermon. I’ve got a gift for you, if you attend.”

She grunts, “don’t say it like that. Makes me sound like a trained dog.”

He clicks his tongue, standing up. He unclasps his belt, sighing at the relief it must offer. “You’re not, darling, but I’m not a fool, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for everything I’m giving you.”

Her lips purse. That’s...not true. She’s been John’s sugar baby for three months now and she’s felt something else other than the normal obligation to do what a man like him want of her. 

She really likes John. And not just because of the things he gives her. Hell, she’s not used to being pampered and really, it still makes her a little uncomfortable. She can live without it. 

She just wants John. 

He wouldn’t believe her if she said so, he hasn’t explicitly told her, but she has a feeling he’s been hurt real bad in the past. 

“I’ll go.” She says instead. Taking his hand in hers, letting him guide her until they’re forced to part to get into the car. 

His erection has flagged by the time they’re on the road, but it’s noticeable if you're looking for it. 

His eyes aren’t on hers. Completely focused on the road. Perfect. 

She reaches over the center console to ghost her fingers over the front of his jeans. She sees his jaw clench beneath his beard. He doesn’t tell her to stop though, and so she adds a little pressure until he hisses through clenched teeth. 

“That feel good?” She asks sweetly.

John snorts, “is water wet? Christ, ‘does it feel good?’ What kind of question is that?”

She pouts and catches his eyes briefly, he likes when she plays submissive with him. “Don’t be mean, Johnny.”

He groans, fingers clenching around the wheel. 

She undoes the button on his jean, tugging the zipper down a moment later. He’s fully hard again, cock pushing against his boxers in a way that makes her nearly whine at the sight. 

She hasn’t lost all sense in her head, not totally gone to the lust burning in her veins, and so she doesn’t even try to pull his boxers and jeans down. Instead pulling only his cock out, enough to wrap her lips around. 

His head thunks back—so fucking dangerous—when she sucks on the tip. It’s...been a while, honestly, and John is long, so she doesn’t try to take him all in. The bumps in the road don’t help at all. 

The road grows uneven at certain points and she gags as his hips jump up and she gets more than she bargained for. 

“What? Can’t take it?” 

Rook closes her eyes and a few tears leak out, she can’t breath. 

He settles a hand on the back of her head, easing her up and off, so his tip brushes along her lips. 

“S’okay, go slow.” He sounds drunk with pleasure. Nearly gone to the feeling of her mouth around him. 

She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth, leaning back down to take him in. She runs her tongue along every inch of heated skin she can touch. Relishing in the half bitten off moans he lets free. 

“Such a doll,” he purrs, thumbing at where her mouth is stretched around him. “Taking me  _ so well,  _ and on such short notice. Is this your way of thanking me?”

Rook hums, sinking down an inch further. Her hand comes up to stroke the rest of his length where she can’t reach. 

“Are you going to let me come in your mouth?”

Ah, so he's close then. More than he’s letting on. 

He keeps stroking her cheek, touching the back of her head, holding her steady whenever they hit a pothole. Not like she still doesn’t choke. Her throat constricts around his dick and he makes a sound like he’s the one who can’t breathe. 

“Huh?” He asks again, jerking up into her mouth and pushing her further. “Gonna let me?” 

She nods as best as she can and John gets it, then she’s doing her best to swallow her spit and the load he shoots down her throat. 

When she’s off, leaning against his thigh, she realizes how much her jaw aches. 

He settles a hand on her shoulder, pulling her up and kissing her  _ hard _ . It’s a short peck, but she knows he must taste himself on her, the thought makes her heart flutter strangely. 

Rook turns her head, gazing out the window. “We’re here.”

He huffs, cheeks flushed as he tucks himself back in without making it too obvious. “Unfortunately.” He tugs at his hair, frowning, “there’s a garden shed behind the church—“

She slaps his shoulder, “your brothers hate me. I’m not fucking you behind his church.”

“They don’t hate you…”

Rook shakes her head. Is it even possible to be that oblivious?

“They don’t exactly like me either.”

“Give them time, my dear. They’ll come to love you like I do.” 

He’s out of the car before she can react to his words. 

Love. 

A slip of the tongue. He probably didn’t even mean it  _ like that.  _ Rook groans, burying her head in her hands. 

It’s always a mess when feelings are involved. 

.0.

Five missed calls.

Fucking hell he’s going to kill her. 

“Why didn’t you tell me my phone was ringing?”

Tim scrunches his nose and makes a disgruntled noise she can’t quite decipher. “Because you were busy showering?” He laughs and looks off towards Bethany. “Am I missing something? Why are you mad at us?”

“It’s  _ John _ !” She hisses back, clutching her phone so tightly it hurts her hand. 

Bethany’s lip quirks ever so slightly. “Ah. Your sugar daddy.” Her eyebrows quirk suggestively and Rook throws a pillow her way. “Hey, I’m not judging, you get that money, honey.”

Tim wolf whistles, throwing his hands up as he slouches further into the couch. “And that dick!”

Rook throws a second pillow, this time aimed at him. He laughs, doubling over like this is the funniest shit in the world. 

He really has no idea what John is like. None of her friends do. They’ve never met him before, only read through his profile and listened to her gush about how perfect he is.

They don’t know the  _ rules _ he set. 

He’s the best sugar daddy she’s ever had—he gives her the most money, the best sex for someone old enough to have fallen back on more vanilla methods, and half the time he doesn’t even want sex—it’d be a damn shame to lose him and have to go hunting again. 

“Just text him,” Tim says, getting up to place the pillows back on her loveseat. He gives her shoulder a squeeze as he passes. “Tell him you were in the shower.”

She bits her lip. Yes, she could very well do that, but John would no doubt play lawyer like he always does. Ask a million questions that she wouldn’t be able to lie her way out of. He’d find out through some means that she was with friends. That instead of being with him, she’s with them. 

Not necessarily her fault, he hasn’t called her to see him in a few weeks. They’ve both been busy dealing with their own personal lives it seems. But that doesn’t matter. If John had it his way, in a perfect world, he’d be the only person in her life. She’d be living with him in Montana. 

Sometimes she wonders if he was like this with all the women he took under his wing, or if there’s something special about her. 

Rook sighs and shoves her phone down between her legs when it starts ringing again. 

Bethany snorts. “Well? You gonna answer him?”

“Yeah...yeah I will.” She stands up, glaring down at her phone and John’s name on the screen. “You guys wanna make pizza while I call? I’m starving.”

Tim nods, a smile gracing his face, “absolutely. I think you need some comfort food.” He grabs Bethany’s arm, dragging her away to the kitchen to give Rook some semblance of privacy. 

Rook paces back and forth. Breathing hard through her nose as she finally accepts the call. 

“Hello?”

“ _ ‘Hello _ ?’” He parrots, all ice and malice. “That’s what I get after five missed calls. Just a ‘hello?’ No explanation? No ‘I’m so sorry, John. Please forgive me?’” 

Rook hiccups. Tries to form words that’ll placate him, but nothing comes.

He scoffs. “Just where are you, my dear?”

That’s easy enough. “Home.”

John hums, and she can almost picture the aloof smile on his face and the way he rocks back on his heels. 

“Do you have company?”

She closes her eyes. He’ll hate the answer, he always does. He doesn’t like any of her friends. “Yes.” 

“Show them the door. I’ll be over soon.”

He hangs up. 

_ Fuck.  _

Getting Tim and Bethany to leave so suddenly must’ve set off some red flags. She doesn’t care. She’ll deal with the repercussions later. When John leaves her sorry ass and she needs a shoulder to cry on because he’s so handsome and sweet and he’s the best thing to walk into her life in a long, long time. 

After they’re gone Rook doesn’t know what to do. Should she clean? Dress up in something fancy John bought her instead of her sweats? Maybe set the table with the frozen pizza she just pulled from the oven? 

She isn’t sure anything would make John happy. 

Instead she settles down on the couch. Idly running a hand through her hair. Mentally counting down the minutes until finally the doorbell chimes his arrival. 

Rook, as much as she wants to, doesn’t waste any time rushing to the door and flinging it open. 

“John…”

It must’ve started to rain at some point because he’s drenched. His long overcoat soaked a darker grey than usual. His hair dripping water from the ends that hang in his eyes and catch on his beard. 

“C-come in.” She steps aside, suddenly self conscious as he crosses the threshold and looks around with the scrutiny of a man who has only ever belonged to the highest society. 

“Nervous?” He asks, toeing off his dress shoes. Even his socks are wet. Though he doesn’t remove those. 

“Yes.”

He smiles at her. “Always so honest.” He walks further into her home, towards the kitchen where the pizza is on the counter. “I interrupted your night, hm?”

He knows he did. Bastard. She nods anyway. 

“If you were hungry I would’ve fed you.” He taps his fingers along the marble on the counter. “You didn’t have to ignore me in favor of...that.”

“I wasn’t trying to...I was showering.”

“Should’ve taken your phone with you into the bathroom.” 

She winces. Why does he have to draw this out?

“John—“

“You know I really like you, Rook. You’re the most fascinating creature I’ve come across in a long time. The most accepting.” He sighs, arms folding behind his back. “I don’t want to lose you. And so I won’t.” He says it so sternly, with such finality, that it makes her shudder. 

“You...won’t? You’re not cutting me off?”

He laughs brightly. “Like I said, you’re perfect. We make such a good pair and I…” he shakes his head, still smiling, “I want you.” He holds out his hand, “come here.” 

Rook drags her feet only slightly. Putting her hand in his. He’s freezing. 

“Where’s your shower?”

She leads him there wordlessly. Closing the door behind them and turning to help him undress. Lord knows he doesn’t  _ need _ the help, but his admission of love—actual, real love—makes her want to touch him. 

He certainly doesn’t seem to mind. 

He stands still as her hands wander over him. Down his chest sprinkled with dark brown hair all the way to his belly, then further as she pulls his jeans and boxers down in one tug. She puts her hand on his calf and he obediently raises his legs so she can toss his clothes aside. 

She undressed next. Goosebumps raise on her skin with each piece of skin she bares. 

John turns on her shower, a hand on her waist to gently nudge her under the spray of water. He climbs in with her, closing the glass wall behind them. 

“I do wish you’d be better,” John mumbles into her neck as he huddles in behind her. “But I’d be lying if I said that I’m not excited at the prospect of punishing you.”

Rook snorts, reaching back to wind one of her hands in his hair. “What kind of punishment?” 

“Dealer’s choice.”

She shakes her head. She’d hardly call herself the ‘dealer’ in this situation. “Spanking.”

John groans, rutting against her thigh. “Ooh. I knew I liked you.”

“Yeah?” She leans in closer so their lips can brush. A soft kiss that he deepens. 

“Yeah.” 

He pushes her until her back hits the wall. Her spine painfully pressed against the knob, she doesn’t mind, not when John is kissing her the way he is. Using his tongue and nipping at her bottom lip. 

“What’s the point of this?” She mumbles into his mouth. 

He makes an affronted noise. “I was wet and gross.” 

“That you were.”

“You’re not supposed to agree.”

She shrugs, feeling loose and giddy at the prospect that he’s still hers. He chose  _ her _ . 

She steps out, taking John with her. He barely has time to turn off the shower before they’re out the door. Walking down the hall naked into her bedroom. She wants to pounce on him, to lie him out on the bed and pull out her box of toys to fuck around with. 

Instead John keeps her at bay, sitting down on the edge of her bed with his legs spread slightly. He pats his lap. “Lie down, across my legs.” 

She shifts nervously, giving a quick nod before doing as told. She’s never done this before and suddenly she’s feeling very out of her element. Like a scared animal ready to run. 

John must know exactly what to do though, she can feel the confidence rolling off him in waves. 

He puts his arm across her lower back, keeping her lock in place, and she just huffs. 

“Is that necessary?”

“Ever been spanked before?”

“N-no.”

His other hand comes around to caress her ass cheek. Almost fondly. “Then I’d say it's very necessary, my dear.”

She bows her head, taking in a deep breath, bracing herself. For a few moments, nothing comes at all. Just the gentle way John pets over her flank. Even once he raises his hand, he doesn’t immediately drop it down. 

Her whole body is taut, there’s no way to hide that. 

He laughs. Silky smooth and oh so charming. 

“Jumpy today,” he observes. Pausing, as if giving her time to answer. 

She swallows, opening her mouth—and  _ that’s  _ when he hits her. 

The force of it and the initial sting on her cheek makes her yelp. Never in her life has she actually  _ yelped. _ Jesus Christ. 

He spanks her again. Not harder nor lighter. It hurts only briefly. The pain washed away through the stints he leaves in between. 

His finger brushes along her inner thigh, teasing the idea of touching her where she’s already grown wet. 

The next few slaps are done in rapid succession. And that’s when the pain doesn’t go away. It’s no longer a sting that fades but a burn that crawls through her entire body. 

She arches up against the arm braced along her back—which keeps her steady for him. 

John clicks his tongue. “You brought this on yourself, Rook, don’t try and run.”

He stops. Rubbing her reddened skin, kneading it, which ends up hurting too. 

“John—“

“Hm?”

A sob catches in her throat at the sudden hit on her ass that claps through the room.

“Crying already?” He leans down, laying a kiss to behind her ear. “Daring we’re just getting started. Tonight, I’m going to drag you back to Montana—permanently this time—and that’s when the real punishment is going to begin.” He tilts her chin towards him, eyes dancing with wild excitement. 

Rook squirms again, feeling his erection pressing against her stomach. It distracts him for a moment, a groan falling free as he closes his lids. It gives Rook enough time to lean in and capture his lips. 

When they break free, a hand tangling in her hair to pull her back, he chuckles. 

“We’re going to have so much fun, you and I. I’m so excited to have you coming home, Rook.”


End file.
